Project Northwoods (84 page)

Allison went from twitching to frenzied. “This is treason!” She looked wildly between her former subordinates. “You can’t do this! I’m the head of the Mob!”

“Not anymore, bitch,” Catalina said, bringing her gun to bear at her sister.

“Don’t move, Catalina,” came an authoritative male voice from the darkness, startling the already tense group. “You and your men will lower their weapons, understood?”

Catalina nodded, and slowly, the armed mobsters obliged. “To whom do I owe the honor of hosting?” Catalina asked, clearly annoyed.

From the darkness, the outline of an Enforcer emerged, then solidified into who Arthur recognized as the colonel who had visited his apartment complex weeks ago. He had an automatic weapon trained on Catalina while a dirty compatriot materialized from behind him, the gun in his hands darting between mobsters. “I am Colonel Morant of the Enforcers.”

Catalina immediately seized up, her face twitching. “What… you have no authority anymore.” Arthur’s ears pricked at the statement.

Morant slowed his gait for a moment, then continued toward the mob boss. “I have authority enough.” He reached a safe distance, cast a glance at the three still trapped in the middle of the group, then returned his attention to her. “What’s going on here?”

Catalina cocked an eyebrow and snorted in disgust. “I’m in the middle of a meeting.”

“Tell me you’re not buying that,” the man with the rifle said. His eyes fell to Ariana and he smiled with a wink.

“It
is
you,” Ariana said with an exasperated grunt of recognition.

“Clearly you’re in no position to help anyone with your petty power struggles,” Morant chided. “We’ll take your hostages and be on our way.”

“We’re not hostages!” Allison shouted, returning her hateful glare to her sister. “We’re just negotiating.”

“Negotiating,” Catalina cooed. “I like that word. You put up an offer such as, say, my hostages…” She gestured with her gun hand. “And I present a counter-point, such as highlighting I have twelve armed gunmen compared to your two.” A thin smile creased her lips and the goons raised their weapons. “The demand being you drop your weapons, hero.”

The sound of glass shattering and the thump of a body hitting the floor punctuated the air. Attention whirled toward the noise. Jack Cleese, righting himself after pilfering the downed mobster’s weapon, stood in the haze of the flares. “Since he couldn’t hold his booze, the fight’s eleven to three, my dear.”

Catalina rolled her eyes. “Just one more to shoot, old man.”

“You can’t possibly be considering this,” Gunslinger said.

Arbiter didn’t turn to regard her, but he knew that she must have gone pale. As much as he wanted to rail against her for her cowardice, he knew she hadn’t seen the horrors he had. The brutality of villains, their constant treachery and false promises. She had grown up with the sham of peace and knew no other measures than what could pitiably be called defiance by those in the Fort.

“Gunslinger, this needs to be done,” Claymore said, his voice firm, but quiet. The boy knew. It took murdering in self-defense, losing a hand and a foot, and a fellow hero shot in the head right in front of him… but he knew.

“Please, we can capture the remaining villains… the Italian Mob…” Her voice grew louder, and suddenly she moved to his side, trying to gain his attention. “My father wouldn’t want this.”

“Your father was murdered by these dogs!” Constantine nearly roared. He was behind Gunslinger now, so close as to render her tiny in comparison. Drunk on the moment, Arbiter tilted his head sideways just enough to keep them in eyeshot. “You would speak on their behalf?”

She turned to face him, suddenly realizing the size differential. “Killing these people won’t get me any closer to knowing why my father was murdered.”

“That is no longer of consequence,” Arbiter said, his voice low.

Gunslinger turned to him, shocked. “Wh-what do you mean?”

“Men and women are dying every day these animals continue to breathe,” Arbiter said. His voice reflected no animosity, merely his point of view. “The ‘why’ of your father’s murder is no longer important. Just the event itself.”

She said nothing and just stared. He didn’t feel the need to look at her. She was young, passionate, and liberal education had stymied her ability to look beyond petty personal feelings and see the world at large.

He would correct this shortcoming in a little over five minutes.

“You can’t do this, Catalina!” Ariana shouted.

“And why not?” Catalina barked with a laugh. “I am having the time of my life.” She practically whirled in place, hands in the air. “No rules to live by, no longer having to pretend I’m second fiddle to a broken flute, no longer having to organize the entire workings of a mob while making nice with the authorities…” She stopped, her back to the entrance, facing the assembled. “I am the fucking
queen
of this town!” Catalina twitched, and her smile grew deathly serious. Moments passed when no one moved, except to cast nervous glances at one another.

Allison whispered in Arthur’s ear, sending a prickle of misplaced panic into his chest, “Did she just call me stupid?”

“Yes,” Arthur confirmed.

Allison sneered in annoyance.

Catalina seemed to snap back to reality. “Mat, grab Arthur and take him out back.” Her voice was terrifying, authoritarian and hard. “We’ll handle the others.” When the thump of boots on the stairwell announced Mat’s movement, Colonel Morant’s gun immediately followed the noise.

Agent Mast lost Zombress’s attention, the taller woman’s gaze now on the Guild. “I think we need to end our Q and A prematurely, Diane.” To Stair’s surprise, the Agent didn’t even bother to ask questions. Instead, she nodded and went sprinting off toward the Super Villains’ Guild. Zombress turned toward the others, a girl introduced as Morgan and a poorly-dressed young man named Steven who claimed to be an Italian mobster. “Morgan, protect the girl. Steven, try to keep up.”

She disappeared in a black flash, sprinting quickly after Agent Mast. Steven ran out after them, half-shouting “Sorry!” as he shot out of the alley.

Stair muttered dumbfounded for a moment, trailing after them before turning to her newest supervisor. She pointed at the rapidly disappearing forms. “We need to go with them.”

“She said to stay put,” Morgan said, folding her arms. “So I’m staying put.”

“Belay that order, Mat!” Allison shouted, pivoting around to put herself between Arthur and Mat.

“I haven’t been on your payroll for some time, ma’am,” Mat said indifferently. “No hard feelings.”

Arthur turned to Catalina. “I’m not going anywhere without my friends.” As an afterthought, he jutted his head toward Cleese. “And Mr. Cleese.”

“Good on ya, lad!” the Brit shouted.

“I hate to tell you this Art, but these people aren’t your friends.” Catalina’s voice lacked any sense of humor or snarkiness. “No one likes you, and in about five minutes, these people will be dead.” She brought her weapon up toward Arthur. “So how about you–”

Someone collided with Catalina, yanking her gun hand downward. She tried to swing a punch with her free hand, but it was deflected with an errant arm. Agent Mast yanked the mobster close and headbutted her, splattering the agent’s strawberry-blond hair with blood. The attention of the mobsters went right toward the two women and they charged. Morant took the opportunity to smash the butt of his rifle across a goon’s face while his accomplice stomped out another’s kneecap. Cleese brandished his gun like a club and brought down another. Mast and Catalina were still fighting, if it could be called that: the BVH woman had plenty of time to administer a blow to her victim’s face before pulling out her sidearm and shooting the two closest mobsters in the shins.

One of the mobsters went flying backward when a black miasma that could be identified as Zombress shoulder-rammed him into the air. So quick as to be unnoticed, she pinwheeled to the side and leapt upwards only to bring her fist down, flattening another goon. She grabbed the now unconscious victim by the leg and flung him into two more mobsters closing in on Mast before snapping toward the closest remaining goon and grabbing him by the neck, lifting him effortlessly into the air, and crushing his windpipe. Blood gushed from his mouth and his eyes rolled back into his head before Zombress cast him aside as though brushing aside a twitching piece of lint.

Mat was the only one left standing, defiantly keeping his gun trained on Arthur despite all available weapons being trained on him. “Miss Capone, I need your orders!” he shouted. Steven slowly emerged from the shadows, shocked at the sight of his brother trying to keep people in his sights. Mat apparently didn’t see the look of betrayal. “Help Catalina,” he ordered, aiming rapidly between Arthur, Allison, and Morant.

Steven shook his head. “What happened to you?” Without another word, he ripped Mat’s gun out of his hands and walked away, letting the others keep him from doing anything.

“She signs your fucking paychecks!” Mat shouted, furious.

Steven turned to him, face twitching. “This is bigger than a paycheck.” He was clearly out of his depth with the situation he found himself in. “What’s wrong with you?”

Mat’s face was growing redder. “You coward,” he called after Steven, even though he was already fading from sight. “You’re a coward!” he yelled, the echo filling the darkness.

Mast rose, dragging Catalina upright, the latter’s face bloodied. The Agent threw her forward. The mobster began to laugh. “BVH cunt,” she said, blood splattering onto the floor. “Y-you can’t be involved with this.”

“Watch me,” she said, delivering another kick to Catalina’s side. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“Couldn’t agree more, madam,” Jack said as he jogged toward the exit.

Catalina struggled to get up, rising to her knees as those left standing gave her a wide berth. “You’re… you’re going to regret this!” She shouted. “I’m the fucking queen of this town!” She laughed as Arthur walked around her. They briefly made eye contact, and a smile crossed her lips, wide and red. “You should have listened to me.” She blinked, slowly. “You’re dead, Arthur!” Her teeth shone pink with blood as she smiled widely. “You! Are! Fucking! Dead!”