Summer 2007. Many changes have occurred within the last year. I had just come off a trip overseas. The Union had disbanded. Heroes went their separate ways. I no longer had a job at the Daily Times. That was the past. I’m now a freelance journalist who submits articles to online newspapers and magazines. But one thing remains the same… The Face is still hidden within my closet. Though I haven’t donned the costume in months, I still remember the old scent of the dark gray fedora, teal-green shirt, and faceless mask that had come with many battles and freshly laundered clothing cleansed by Tide Spring Edition.
It was dark. I had a small desk lamp on, and was sitting in a swivel chair twiddling my thumbs wondering what to do next. I stared at the blue light emanating off of my laptop screen, bookfacing and listening to leads on criminal activity. I was lucky enough to get the Podcast frequency of the local police satellite radio over the city. People would just as easily think I was listening to music rather than tuning in on law enforcement communication anywhere I went. I was ready to be back in action.
Within moments, I heard a faint static-clouded voice talking about how the local Sullyville Jewel Museum had its silent alarm operated and was calling for backup. That was my queue.
Firstly I changed into the dark gray pants that I had paraded around in since my first moment as the Face in 2004. Then I put on my familiar and brightly colored teal dress shirt that fitted underneath a night-black tie. Above that was a matching gray suit jacket that I had previously worn in place of the trench coat that I had used in my early days. Finally, I “topped” everything off with that faithful fedora that kept my head warm on very cold nights.
But there was one thing I had forgotten… the mask. It was faceless. It scared me almost as it probably did everyone else. I guess I really hadn’t seen it in a long while. I put it on once more and bore the image of “the Face” as I had done before.
Arriving at the museum was hectic. Squad cars surrounded the building with officers stationed everywhere in the front. An official was loudly bellowing the usual commands that a cop would yell, but to no avail. I asked Officer Thompson, as I read on his badge, what the situation was.
“A couple of no-good jewel thieves are inside the building.” This of course, I already knew. He hesitated before he spoke again, sniffling. “Wait a second… Do I smell springtime freshness?”
“Why yes,” I said obligingly. “Courtesy of freshly laundered clothing with Tide Spring Edition.
“Ah, good choice,” Officer Thompson replied. “The wife loves it… Anyway, there seem to be two different groups headed for the same thing. Whether they’re cooperating or competing, I don’t have a clue.”
By the sound of his voice I knew that this was not going well. If the police were outside, then that must mean hostages were still inside. Maybe a couple of security guards or a curator or janitor cleaning up some last minute messes during the late night.
I stealthily made my way to a back entrance. There was a man wearing sunglasses, a headset, and black suit who seemed to be peering his head out from behind a doorway, so I quickly tasered him. Searching for keys, I found some, and entered the passage as usual.
Inside, I saw what seemed to be an old storage room for the janitor. I wrestled my way through mops and buckets until I found the next door and pushed it aside. I rapidly closed the door again, however, because the next room was swarming with black-suited (and skirted) men and women with headsets, and they all looked quite intimidating with their pistols and weapons. They didn’t look like mafia though, for they did not wear the essential fedora, like me. They looked more like some organization reminiscent of the CIA.
I nervously heard conversation right after I slammed the door shut.
A female had remarked, “Nathan, do I smell springtime freshness?”
I panicked. ‘Blast my infernal, freshly laundered suit!’ I thought.
“Ah yes. Tide Spring Edition. I knew I made the right choice today,” Nathan said triumphantly.
I sighed in relief.
This is going to require lots of stealth. I thought to myself.
Don’t ask me how, but through some way I was able to sneak past the many uniformed members of the fake CIA by navigating narrow passages, pressing against thin walls, and using the old quick-glance-out-of-the-corner-of-your-eye trick until I reached the third floor. That was when the trouble began.
I made my way into a red-carpeted room which housed displays of large cases of diamond, sapphire, and ruby necklaces. I was awestruck, not only at the opulence and beauty of the jewels, but also that it didn’t seem like anyone was guarding this dark, dim-lit room. I looked around for the suited pseudoSWATs, but found nothing. I shrugged my shoulders and stepped into a small light that shone over a very expensive-looking diamond necklace. Within one step I was surrounded by dark figures who didn’t have the traditional black suits at all. Well, some did wear black suits, and masks as well, but there were other colors such as forest green, maroon, yellow, and brown.
“Ninjas?!” I cried in awe, as a maroon-clothed ninja pointed his katana at me, and a yellow, female ninja had throwing stars aimed my way.
“I… was not expecting this,” I said behind my bewildered faceless mask. Then I remembered that Officer Thompson said there were TWO groups in the museum and not just one. I put my hands behind my head and knelt before the numerous ninjas. I feared what would happen next. Maybe I shouldn’t have done this alone.
Before I knew it, I was marched blindfolded up to the fourth and top floor of the museum into a small office room. My vision returned when the blindfold was off, and I could see two shadowy figures with respective pseudo-CIAs on the left and ninjas on the right.
The leader on the right stepped into a dim light, revealing the mystery behind her dark countenance.
“Lady Cancra?!” I muttered in disbelief. There was no doubt about it. I remembered the face of destruction that looked me in the eyes that one fateful night.
“So, you know me,” she said, her long, black ponytail waving backward, then disappearing into the shadows. She had on a sleek, red outfit with a silver belt that held a sheath for a sharp katana at the right side of her waist.
“This fool knows you?” A deep, dark voice echoed through the room. The light revealed a muscle-bound man in an orange and black, tight outfit which included what looked to be a technologically advanced belt and powerpack on his back. Tubes connected from the pack to a uniquely patterned, orange and black helmet on top of his head. The face painted on the head covering looked to be that of a maniacal monster.
“Patience, it will come back to me. If he knows me, then I must have dealt with him some time before.”
“He better not be one of your stooges, or I’m gonna have to make quick work of this right here and now.”
A clansmember still had me bound at the wrists.
“Whatever the Techron Organization wants with the Cat’s Eye Emerald cannot interfere with the Mousha Clan’s intentions.”
“Lookie here, woman. Don’t you think it’s a coincidence that we’re here to bag the same jewel you are? We just happened to get a tip from an insider that you was gonna be here tonight jackin’ this thing. It was hard enough trying to track you down in the first place. Everywhere we tagged you on the comps, you up and left the place like a fed-up housewife.”
“So, a double-cross. It looks like I’ll have to take more drastic measures in disciplining my clansmen into proper loyalty.”
“Now, I’m sure we can make a nice deal that’ll make everyone happy. Why would you need something like an emerald anyway. Ain’t you a world-famous assassin? You should be killin’, not stealin’.”
“What’s it to you, peasant? It’s my business and my business alone.”
“Aww, come on. You can tell ol’ Wildfire what’s goin’ on. In fact, we know about your sister. We know everythin’ about you. That’s what the comps are for.”
“What? Y… you know… my sister. She has…”
“Das right. You want that cancer gone right?”
“Yes… things have been slow. I don’t have any clients… and at this stage I’ll need a fortune.”
‘So… her sister’s cancer is why she’s here. I know what that’s like. Lady Cancra was a cancer to me. But… maybe that’s different, I don’t know.’
“So then. We can make a trade. Give us the emerald, and then Techron can give you all the money you need to get that operation done.”
“Y… you would do that? You would promise your word? But… Why? Why would Techron need this emerald?”
“It’s a done deal. And what we do with the emerald, is OUR business,” Wildfire said, with emphasis on the ‘our’ as his thumb resolutely pointed to himself.
“But… there is something else you want, isn’t there?”
“Well, y’see. That’s where yo’ skills come in. We need a job done, and while I could do it myself, we need someone of your expertise to help keep the dust off our fingers.”
“I… I see.” One could truly see something changed about the female assassin.
“Wha’s the matta? You ain’t getting’ soft on me are ya? Well that’s bad news for you, girl, cuz there ain’t never gonna be a cure for your sister.”
“Alright! Whoever it is, I’ll do it. But this will be the last…”
“That’s good to hear, missy. I’m sure the mayor of Sullyville will be dying to see you then…”
Lady Cancra gasped. In addition, my jaw dropped at the hearing of these preposterous words. I wondered if they forgot I was there.
“I didn’t forget about you, fool,” the Wildfire character said to me almost psychically. “I’ll deal with you later.”
He turned back to Cancra. “So… we got a deal? That mayor’s been getting’ in our hair about our partnership with the city. We need a station down here, it’s a good place. But for some reason that blasted mayor thinks we’re bad news. I beg to differ. We’re great news. In fact, we’re better news. We’re better news for him compared to what he thinks.”
Now this guy just lost me.
“But what about him?” Cancra pointed to me. “While you’ve been blabbering your ‘well-thought-out plans,’ you’ve been leaking all this information to this possible squabbler.”
‘Squabbler?’
“Heh. We’ll take him back to Techron. Run some tests for the government. Heh… heh… heh………..heh.”
I furrowed my brows at this ludicrous character.
“But first!” Wildfire said pointing his hand to me. “We gotta make sure we’re clear on how serious I am about this.”
He then outstretched his palm and shot a flame at me which engulfed my entire suit jacket.
‘Great, now that spring-time freshness is gonna be replaced by char-burnt-coal smell!’ I thought as my instincts shifted to ‘Stop, Drop, and Roll.’
Wildfire laughed heartily as I rolled around in fiery flames.
As the sadistic man was about to pour out more gas, Cancra intervened.
“Leave him be!” she cried, stepping in. “…And the hostages too. I can’t bear to watch anymore people in pain… not after my sister…” She sighed sadly.
‘Oh sure, you say that now,’ I thought to myself as the last of the inferno had finally been put out.
But it was no matter. The deal was set. Techron would receive the Cat’s Eye Emerald and a casket full of mayor, while Lady Cancra’s sister would get the money she needed for life-saving treatment. And what would I get? The way things were going now, I didn’t even wanna know.
