Inquest, part 2: The Good Guys
Part 1: All The Good Names Are Taken
I didn’t get anything from the warehouse itself. The lead was a trap. Another lead from the goon: another trap?
12 people laid off from private security companies, recruited by someone with a training site in Woodside. All equipment provided, conventional and advanced weaponry both. No questions asked by the recruiter and few questions answered. No names. The goons were divided into three squads and got their marching orders over the radio from someone they just called Sergeant.
Paid in cash.
I believed what the guy was telling me so I cut him some slack and called an ambulance from one of the last remaining pay phones in San Francisco on my way home.
Put it on the list along with ‘gloves’: disposable cell phone. Does Batman have a disposable phone in his utility belt? I guess Batman has a relationship with the cops. I want nothing to do with cops, myself.
Sewing kit, at least until I figure out where I can get a bulletproof costume. How much crap do I need to take with me when I’m out on a mission?
The goon told me enough that I thought I had a shot at finding the training camp. If there really was a training camp. It was probably a trap.
What did they know? They know someone’s following up Cassiopeia leads. Someone strong and bulletproof. Me.
I’m bulletproof. Am I grenade-proof? Bomb-proof?
Even if a bomb couldn’t break my skin, I couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt. Hurt enough to knock me out? Kill me?
Fuck. Is my brain invulnerable, like my skin and bones? If a bomb goes off by my head, will my brain splatter against the inside of my indestructible skull? How do I figure this shit out safely? I need to find a doctor or something, a doctor I can trust.
Maybe I can rescue a doctor. Who will then owe me a favor.
Maybe I could endanger a doctor just so I can rescue him. A really handsome doctor.
That would be wrong. Focus.
Okay, so: probably a trap, and they might try harder to kill me this time, and I don’t know how hard it actually is to kill me. So, I need help. A doctor who can help me understand my limits. Someone to help scout this training camp. A sidekick. A plucky sidekick! Who can turn invisible and could get into the camp undetected. Bonus points if he can fly.
Where do I find other people with powers? I’ve spotted some. Middle-aged dudes hanging out in comic book stores for the first time in their lives. Hit by Cassie, never had time for comics before, but doing the research now. Those aren’t the guys I want on my team, seriously. My fuckin’ dad had a full 20 years of Avengers in longboxes in the garage. Okay, so a lot of them were reprints. But I grew up with that shit. I don’t need some super-come-lately with six weeks of book-learnin’. I need someone who knows this shit back and forth.
Could I find someone at a con? Would someone with real super-powers go to a comic book convention? Maybe in their own costume? Could I spot a real Cassie? Most of the people who got obviously, visibly changed -- it wasn’t for the better.
Or maybe none of the exposures are for the better and some are just way worse than others.
Oh god, dad, I miss you.
There’s a local con in two months. Nothing else. I need backup now.
Where else do we go? What do we do? Heroes, what do heroes do? Fight crime? Seriously?
Oh, shit, are there people patrolling?
So... they go out at night and look for crime. I go out and look for them?
Bonus: If I watch them in action -- fighting criminals, say -- well, then, they’re definitely the good guys, right? Fuck, can you even tell which side is the good guys when it’s gang members and hobos getting into it? That’s all the street crime I ever notice. People aren’t getting held up at gunpoint in the alley by the opera house, really, not so much any more.
Are there really good guys? In real life? Fine. I’ll find out. I start tonight. I’ll go out and look for the chumps who think that stopping a mugging “makes a difference.” Maybe one will get in over his head and need a bulletproof girl to rescue him.
Maybe he’ll turn out to be a superhero who’s also a doctor. A handsome doctor.
Tonight.
After I buy gloves.
Failure 6: 1/14/2011
I didn’t get anything from the warehouse itself. The lead was a trap. Another lead from the goon: another trap?
12 people laid off from private security companies, recruited by someone with a training site in Woodside. All equipment provided, conventional and advanced weaponry both. No questions asked by the recruiter and few questions answered. No names. The goons were divided into three squads and got their marching orders over the radio from someone they just called Sergeant.
Paid in cash.
I believed what the guy was telling me so I cut him some slack and called an ambulance from one of the last remaining pay phones in San Francisco on my way home.
Put it on the list along with ‘gloves’: disposable cell phone. Does Batman have a disposable phone in his utility belt? I guess Batman has a relationship with the cops. I want nothing to do with cops, myself.
Sewing kit, at least until I figure out where I can get a bulletproof costume. How much crap do I need to take with me when I’m out on a mission?
The goon told me enough that I thought I had a shot at finding the training camp. If there really was a training camp. It was probably a trap.
What did they know? They know someone’s following up Cassiopeia leads. Someone strong and bulletproof. Me.
I’m bulletproof. Am I grenade-proof? Bomb-proof?
Even if a bomb couldn’t break my skin, I couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt. Hurt enough to knock me out? Kill me?
Fuck. Is my brain invulnerable, like my skin and bones? If a bomb goes off by my head, will my brain splatter against the inside of my indestructible skull? How do I figure this shit out safely? I need to find a doctor or something, a doctor I can trust.
Maybe I can rescue a doctor. Who will then owe me a favor.
Maybe I could endanger a doctor just so I can rescue him. A really handsome doctor.
That would be wrong. Focus.
Okay, so: probably a trap, and they might try harder to kill me this time, and I don’t know how hard it actually is to kill me. So, I need help. A doctor who can help me understand my limits. Someone to help scout this training camp. A sidekick. A plucky sidekick! Who can turn invisible and could get into the camp undetected. Bonus points if he can fly.
Where do I find other people with powers? I’ve spotted some. Middle-aged dudes hanging out in comic book stores for the first time in their lives. Hit by Cassie, never had time for comics before, but doing the research now. Those aren’t the guys I want on my team, seriously. My fuckin’ dad had a full 20 years of Avengers in longboxes in the garage. Okay, so a lot of them were reprints. But I grew up with that shit. I don’t need some super-come-lately with six weeks of book-learnin’. I need someone who knows this shit back and forth.
Could I find someone at a con? Would someone with real super-powers go to a comic book convention? Maybe in their own costume? Could I spot a real Cassie? Most of the people who got obviously, visibly changed -- it wasn’t for the better.
Or maybe none of the exposures are for the better and some are just way worse than others.
Oh god, dad, I miss you.
There’s a local con in two months. Nothing else. I need backup now.
Where else do we go? What do we do? Heroes, what do heroes do? Fight crime? Seriously?
Oh, shit, are there people patrolling?
So... they go out at night and look for crime. I go out and look for them?
Bonus: If I watch them in action -- fighting criminals, say -- well, then, they’re definitely the good guys, right? Fuck, can you even tell which side is the good guys when it’s gang members and hobos getting into it? That’s all the street crime I ever notice. People aren’t getting held up at gunpoint in the alley by the opera house, really, not so much any more.
Are there really good guys? In real life? Fine. I’ll find out. I start tonight. I’ll go out and look for the chumps who think that stopping a mugging “makes a difference.” Maybe one will get in over his head and need a bulletproof girl to rescue him.
Maybe he’ll turn out to be a superhero who’s also a doctor. A handsome doctor.
Tonight.
After I buy gloves.
Failure 6: 1/14/2011