Wednesday, July 6, 1988
Camp Tandy – Boy’s campsite 5
Glassboro Township
New Jersey
Waking with his alarm, this is the best night sleep he has had at Camp Tandy. Something that puts him at ease. It is as if to signal that everything that has happened has come to an end. Although he is still a little timid about taking a shower this morning. Sorting through his duffle bag Steve discovers he has no clean underwear. Pulling his laundry bag from under his cot he soon discovers that he has no underwear at all. Tired and sleeping when he got back to his tent last night Steve pushed his underwear and pants off together. No longer having a tent-mate, Steve crawled into his sleeping bag to sleep in the nude. Grabbing for his pants on the floor he soon discovers that the underwear he wore yesterday are gone as well. Searching under his cot he can find no trace of any underwear dirty or otherwise.
Sitting back down on his cot Steve realizes what is going on. End of camp prank! Someone has stolen all of his underwear. He was exhausted last night after returning from Las Vegas, he has only himself to blame. He will just have to make do. Going through the rest of his clothing he finds that all of his tighter fitting pants and shorts are missing as well. How could he possibly sleep through this prank? Then he realizes that it must have been some kind of an after effect of Dragonfly’s power.
Wearing any of the shorts he has left would be too big of a risk of slip out exposure. Even his bathing suits are gone. He is left with no choice but to wear a pair of sweatpants on an eighty degree day. Whoever masterminded this plan surely knew him too well. Looking down at the bulge his dick makes in the front of the sweatpants, he hopes that a longer shirt will cover it.
He finishes packing up his stuff, double checking it, he hauls it all out of his tent at once. Getting up before the rest of the campers gives him time to get his gear up to the bus first. Returning to the Boy’s camp he makes sure all the boys he is in charge of are awake and packing up to go home. It is understandable that some of the boys are angry over going home early. It has been a strange and dangerous stay at Camp Tandy for Steve. He has learned many secrets about this place that holds so many great childhood memories for him. Secrets that in a way make him glad it might be closing forever.
Then there are all of the new friendships he has made here this summer. He spots Avery Lewis walking across the campsite toward him as he supervises the other campers. Steve can’t help but wonder if Avery is the culprit of the prank being played on him. But there is no way he is going to question his fellow amazon offspring and spoil his fun.
“Steve!” Avery calls out jogging up to him. “I just wanted to say goodbye and thank you for everything.” Avery takes Steve’s hand to shake it and then sighs to lean in and hug the man. “Even with all of ‘the weird stuff’ I have learned so much about life and myself this summer.” “Some of it was thanks to you.” “I know I still have a lot to learn, but I hope our paths cross again.”
“I would like that,” Steve says, giving the young man a pat on the back. “I just hope all of ‘the weird stuff’ wasn’t too much for you.” “I hate that you were exposed to all of that at your age.” “I know it would have been a lot for me to handle.”
“No, big deal,” Avery replies, giving Steve a punch in the arm. “The only hard part is not going home and telling my Dad all that happened.” “He would lose his mind if he found out who Coach Barnes really is to us.” “I have to admit knowing the truth about our past does give me a different outlook on my future.”
“Like I said it is a lot,” Steve says, giving Avery a light punch back. “Would you like me to give you my phone number or address, so if you ever need anything?”
Avery smiles, “No I’m good, besides I live in Seaford, Delaware, it isn’t exactly a walk down the block to Philadelphia?”
“Seaford, I didn’t realize you lived in such a small town,” Steve comments. “Besides, it wouldn’t be a walk.” They both smile at the secret they share.
“It’s all part of the small lifestyle my people love,” Avery comments. “I’ve had the desire to travel some after High School for a while now.” “All the stuff I’ve seen has made me want to leave Seaford even more.”
“How is your family going to feel about that?” Steve asks his young friend.
“I think Mom understands more than Dad,” Avery explains. “Dad is a keep to our roots kind of guy.” “Mom is more worldly, she has been to Disney World.” Avery and Steve laugh at his joke as they walk toward his bus.
“Have a safe trip home,” Steve says, patting Avery on the back.
Avery stops and turns to face Steve to say, “You’re not getting off this easy.” “You have become like a brother to me.” The boy grabs Steve around his neck and ribs to give him another hug. “Thank you for everything.”
“Just be careful, okay,” Steve says, hugging the boy back. “The world is a lot bigger for people like us.”
“See, big brother talk.” Avery says letting go of Steve to climb on his bus. “I’m sure my Dad will find a way to keep me from finding out how big the world really is as long as he can.” “I’ll see you around.”
Southport Plaza
Philadelphia, PA
The bus trip back to Pennsylvania is a rather uneventful one. Most of the kids are tired or sad to be going home. A few are eager to see their parents. Some of them even sing a round of bottles of beer on the wall. Steve sits with his head against the window thinking back over the time he spent with Diana. He wants to go straight home and call her to ask about her trip home. Steve knows full well that coming home has little chance of being that calm. Some crisis is bound to pop up.
The first stop inside the city limits is just off I95 at a shopping center where parents wait in parked cars to claim their children. This is a stop for only a few of the kids on the bus. Jeremy Aspen being one of them. Steve doesn’t think he has heard Jeremy speak once on the bus, he knows it is because Jesse lives in Wildwood, New Jersey and took a different bus home. Steve watches the other two kids walk down the aisle toward the bus door before calling out, “Jeremy this is your stop!” He hears the boy at the back of the bus shuffle around gathering up his stuff.
Walking down the aisle before getting off the bus Jeremy sits down in the seat next to Steve to say, “You’re welcome, by the way.”
“What am I thanking you for Jeremy?” Steve asks.
“My not telling my Dad what a big liar you are,” Jeremy says with a grin. “The minute I knew you were spying on me and Jesse I was going to call my Dad.”
Steve looks at the boy in confusion. “What were you going to tell him?”
Jeremy explains, “Let’s just say that Jesse and I were in the woods when you and Barry were there, he was right you do have some girth.” Steve doesn’t like where this story is going. “He wanted something from you that you were not willing to give.” “I was going to tell my Dad that you tried to do that to me.”
“That would have been a terrible thing to do,” Steve says.
“Well, I decided to just do this.” Jeremy takes a paper grocery bag from out of his backpack and plops it on Steve’s lap.
“Jeremy you didn’t!” Steve charges.
“Best summer ever!” Jeremy smiles as he gets up to disembark the bus. “I even kept a souvenir for myself.” Steve spots Jeremy reach inside his jacket to pull out a piece of red fabric to hold it to his nose.
Steve immediately opens the paper bag to find his missing clothing. It would appear the mystery of his stolen underwear is solved. “That little perv kept a pair of my underwear,” Steve whispers to himself.
Steve Roberts & Patrick Berger’s apartment
1701 Tulip St
The Fishtown section
Philadelphia, Pa
Arriving home just before dinner time Steve flops down in his recline. “It is good to be home!” Reaching for the television remote to turn it on. Kicking off his sneakers he wiggles his toes while flipping through the channels. Finding a rerun of Munsters he settles in to relax. It is the episode where Grandpa and Herman find buried treasure in the backyard.
About a half an hour later the door of the apartment opens and Paddy arrives home. He stomps to the Living room to Steve’s chair where he reclines his hands behind his head. “We need to talk!” Paddy announces. “What is that stench?” Pausing to lean forward over his roommate he takes a sniff. “Oh, that is disgusting!” “It is you!” “When was the last time you had a shower, Camper?”
Steve turns his head to sniff his pit. “Two days ago,” he replies grimacing. “What is on your mind?”
Paddy pulls up the back of the recliner to sit Steve up. “It can wait until you take a shower!” “You smell like shit!” Paddy goes to the window to open it. “Get a move on before you stink up the whole building!”
“Quite the charmer, it’s good to be home,” Steve says, getting up from his chair to pull off his shirt as he heads to his bathroom.
Paddy goes to the kitchen to fix himself dinner hoping the smell of Camp Tandy will escape before he eats. Opening the fridge there is an urgent knock at the door. Paddy makes his way to the door to look out the peephole. Their neighbor Julie Snyder stands impatiently in the hall. Opening the door he asks, “Julie what is so important?”
The young daughter of his girlfriend pushes the Detective into the apartment. “Where is Steve, is he home yet?”
“Yeah, how did you know that?” Paddy replies, “What is the hurry?”
Julie steps into the living room and grabs her nose, “What is that stink?”
“The man you are looking for, he is in the shower,” Paddy chuckles. “I think he fell in a septic tank.” “Have a seat, he may be a while.” “I’m grabbing dinner, can I get you anything?”
“Got a diet?” Julie asks, sitting down on the little used couch at the back of the room.
“I think your Mom left something here,” Paddy says returning to the kitchen. Paddy searches the back of the frig to find a can of soda. Returning to the living room with the soda he asks, “What is so important?”
“Something between me and him,” Julie says, popping open the soda. “I don’t know if I should share it.”
“Well then, why don’t I see if I can speed him up,” Paddy says heading to Steve’s bedroom. “Buddy,” he says, knocking on the door. Before he can finish his sentence Steve opens the door wearing only a towel around his waist.
“What’s up, am I clean enough for you now?” Steve says in a clear view of the living room.
“Ahh, Julie is here to see you,” Paddy says, trying to block her view of Steve.
“Oh, let me grab my robe,” Steve says, closing the door.
Paddy walks back through the living room to the kitchen. “Get a good look?”
“I’m engaged, remember,” she replies, holding up her hand with an engagement ring. “He was never my type anyway.”
“Wow, that is amazing, I knew he would man up,” Steve says walking into the living room in his robe. “Let me see the ring.”
“Oh please, are you still playing this game?” Julie says.
“What do you mean? Steve says, trying to look innocent.
“Master Warrior!” Julie exclaims.
“Did I hear Master Warrior’s name?” Paddy says returning from the kitchen with a sandwich in hand.
“Holy Crap, are you in on this too?” Julie shouts. “Who called you that night, Master Warrior or Steve?”
“In on what?” Paddy says innocently. “What were the two of you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the night David and I got engaged at his office and Master Warrior showed up to use the phone!” Julie exclaims.
“That is strange,” Paddy says while Steve remains quiet. “I guess he felt he could trust David.”
Julie stands glaring at both men. “I am not an idiot,” she says. “I know what I know.” The two men remain unflinching. “Are you telling me to stop pressing this?” “To just forget I know what I know?”
Paddy looks at Steve for a few moments until Steve says, “I think that would be for the best.” “If Master Warrior were here I’m sure he would say that it is becoming a dangerous world for people connected to him.” “There are only so many people he can protect at one time.”
“What about David?” Julie asks with concern. Both men are silent.
“Not to sound sexist, but David is a professional, a Detective, a marksman, and martial artist,” Paddy says. “I have worked with him, I know he can take care of himself.” Julie is the one who is silent now.
“Surely you know the name Lois Lane,” Steve says intending to use the name completely differently than his mother did days ago. “It has been an endless debate if she puts herself at more risk because she knew Superman would save her.” “If you truly knew Master Warrior was taking a special interest in you, can you honestly say that you wouldn’t take more risks than you should?” Julie returns to the couch to lay back staring at the ceiling. “Well, I’m going to get dressed,” Steve says returning to his bedroom.
“I have to admit he is right, imagine that Dominator guy coming after you,” Paddy says following Steve into his room.
Paddy opens the bedroom door as Steve is pulling up his underwear. “I thought we had new privacy rules?” Steve says, turning to face his roomie.
“That is when Paula and I are together.” Paddy reminds. “And I fuck’n showered you after that Dominator shit!” Paddy takes a seat in the chair at the window. “It was that night you called me, wasn’t it?”
Pulling on his jeans Steve turns to explain, “It was.” “I took for granted that no one would be in the office that time of night.” “David and Julie were having sex on the sofa.”
“For a virgin you sure have walked in on plenty of others,” Paddy jokes.
“That aside, I made a quick exit,” Steve replies. “She knew Master Warrior called you about Gary.” “I tried to cover it, but David was being sarcastic.”
“He loves her, he doesn’t want to lie to her,” Paddy explains. “I hope one day you will understand that.” “But that is not why I came home to talk to you.” “This is,” Paddy lays a file stamped “CONFIDENTIAL” “Elite Squad Eyes Only” down on the bed.
“What is this?” Steve asks, reaching for the file on his bed.
“It is everything we have learned about a man called Evin Crow,” Paddy answers.
“Crow?” Steve ponders. “As in Dr. Crow?”
“I don’t know, but he was a man who was sent to jail for the murder of Jillian Rogers,” Paddy explains.
“Wow, you are just full of names today,” Steve says looking through the file. “Jillian Rogers was one of Gary’s step-mothers.” “I thought she died in an accident.”
“So did most people, somehow the whole trial was kept on the down-low,” Paddy reveals, pointing out some facts in the file. “Crow was a drunk and druggy who worked with Joseph.” “They often drank together after work and on several occasions the three of them would party together.” “Witnesses reported that Crow and Jillian would kiss and touch each other in front of Joseph.”
“Wouldn’t that make Joseph look guilty of Jillian’s death?” Steve asks, flipping forward to the research about The Clan of the Immortal.
“Only Crow’s DNA was found on Jillian’s body at the time of her murder,” Paddy explains. “He also bought the drugs she overdosed on.” “All the other evidence pointed to Crow.” “The only damning evidence against Joseph is how he acted after Crow went to prison.”
“Claiming the ashes of the man who murdered his wife,” Steve says. “I assume you believe that Evin Crow is a Zeni-human.” “That is how he is alive and leading a cult in Nebraska.”
“Yes,” Paddy nods. “Thing is, the Elite Squad may have some pull outside of the city, even in the tri-state area, but not in Nebraska.”
“So you want Master Warrior to take another road trip,” Steve grins. “I’ll get on it first thing tomorrow morning.”
Thursday, July 7, 1988
Philadelphia Elite Squad office
1st precinct
Philadelphia, Pa
“Where is Zadlo?” Commander Olpere announces entering the squad room.
Zadlo’s partner has his nose buried in his computer at this early hour, but he answers the Commander’s question without looking up, “Called me at home to tell me he had an appointment with Dr. Michaelson at Jefferson before work this morning.”
“Another injury?” Detective Berger questions once Olpere has retreated into her office. “He has had a lot of them lately.”
Bower looks up over his computer not usually wanting to participate in office gossip he replies, “Don’t know, he didn’t say.”
“He has had many recent unexplained injuries, hasn’t he?” Officer Maguire comments. “It is strange that I really can’t get a read off of him.”
“You’re not supposed to be using your voodoo on us!” Bower asserts glaring at Maguire.
“It is not intentional,” Maguire insisted. “I can’t turn it on and off, but I have never gotten any emotions from Zadlo.”
Commissioner Aspen’s office
Philadelphia Police Headquarter
One Franklin Square
Philadelphia, Pa
Steve arrives to meet with the Commissioner first thing to make his report on Camp Tandy. He is not kept waiting as the flirty receptionist, Darla Eckroth sends him right in to speak with Aspen. When Steve enters the office Commissioner Aspen sits behind his large desk not looking at all pleased. His hands gripping the armrests of his chair as if trying to control his temper. “Good Morning, Sir” Steve says, hoping to calm the situation.
“I have the State Police report right here,” Commissioner Aspen says, patting a file on his desk. “Is there anything you would like to add?” The look on the man’s face betrays the depth of his anger.
“What happened at Camp Tandy had nothing to do with your son, Jeremy,” Steve assures. “There were very few of the current campers involved with the activities that brought the State Police.” “All of the campers that were not involved knew nothing of any of the things that happened.” “Even the death of Mr. Tennyson was withheld from them.”
“I hired you to find out if my son had been bullied last summer at camp and the whole place blew up!” Commissioner Aspen shouts standing up to pound his fist on the desk. “How am I supposed to believe you when the State Police have filed a reports of a huge drug busts, child molestation and a suicide!”
Steve can’t imagine how this man must feel after reading that report. “I swear to you not even I knew what was going on all those years I went to Camp Tandy as a kid.” “The group involved had specific targets, boys with emotional problems and troubled home lives.” “That is not your son!” “Yes, he told me he was approached by one of the involved older boys last year, but he had the strength of character to refute the advances.” “That is a strength that you and your wife have given him.” “He is a good boy, a strong young man who just needs to be loved for who he is.” “Something only his family can do for him, not some corrupt group offering him membership.”
Aspen sits back down in his chair to contemplate what this man told him. “What do you know about the drug ring?”
Steve knows without acknowledging the Satyr there is no connection between the sexual deviance and the pot farm. “It was completely uninvolved with Camp Tandy, other than it was being cultivated by former adult campers.” “The only campers who knew anything about it were the ones who stumbled upon it while hiking in a restricted area.” “There were over a hundred kids this summer and Jeremy didn’t even know the ones that found the farm.”
“There are several mentions of Master Warrior in this report,” Aspen reveals. “Would you like to explain that?”
Steve is not sure what Aspen is getting at, “How would I know anything about that?”
“Did you really think I would send you there just because you were a former cop?” Commissioner Aspen says looking more relaxed. “Of all of the former cops in this city turned private detective I chose one working out of Jersey.” “Master Warrior first appeared in the city after you left the force.” “I think he even had a hand in bringing down my predecessor.” “Anthony Stanley was a smart man, but he wasn’t clever enough to outsmart you.” “I like to think that is one thing I have over him, that and not being a crook.” “He assembled the Elite Squad to keep an eye on people the world at large did not even know existed.” “Master Warrior changed all of that, intentionally or not.”
“Sir, I am confused what any of this has to do with your son and the job I performed for you at Camp Tandy,” Steve says fearing he knows exactly what Aspen is getting at. “Is this an attempt to not pay me for my service?”
“No not at all, a check has already been cut for Trademark Investigations,” Commissioner Aspen assures Steve. “Sometime ago I made an attempt to hire Master Warrior as a special deputy.” “I’d thought long and hard about his words of not wanting to fill out paperwork.” “Sounded like an ex-cop to me.” Aspen gives Steve a raised eyebrow. “Clearly you have no desire to admit anything to me, but let me be clear, Master Warrior is still welcome in my office anytime.”
Steve is pretty sure this whole thing was a trick to give himself away that the Commissioner thinks he has pulled off to his benefit. But Steve has no intention of admitting he is right. “Thank you, I will let him know if I see him.” “As for our business I believe it is completed.”
“Yes, I think it is,” Commissioner Aspen agrees, shaking Steve’s hand again.
Thomas Jefferson University Hospital
V.I.P. Ward
111 S 11th St
Philadelphia, Pa
In a private examination room Officer Zadlo sits shirtless on a paper covered table as Dr. Michaelson stitches up an open wound on his back. Attached to his left arm a second pint of blood flows into his body. His pallor is pale but completely coherent as the Doctor speaks to him.
“I do not know how many more times we can do this trick,” Dr. Michaelson instructs the cop. “This is the fourth time in the past two months that you have come in with injuries this lethal.” “You may appear immortal but even you could reach a point where some stitches and a few pints of blood will not keep you alive.”
“I know,” Zadlo replies. “I just seem to keep finding myself in situations that lead to things I can not avoid.”
“Perhaps it is time you considered a different line of work,” Dr. Michaelson suggests. “Your ability to survive these injuries is amazing, but like I have warned you there could be one from which you will not be able to come back.” Dr, Michaelson turns off the tube on the blood bag and moves to remove the needle from the man’s arm. “Perhaps I should talk to your Commander about your limitations.” Using superglue the doctor closes the hole left by the needle.
“No, no that isn’t necessary,” Zadlo insists. “I can do better, wear more protective gear.”
“If I see you back in here again this month I will be left with no other option but to suggest to your Commander to put you on desk duty,” Dr. Michael informs the police officer. “For your own safety.”
“I understand completely, doctor,” Officer Zadlo says, not happy with the ultimatum as he pulls on his shirt.
The Smith farm
S 98th St
Lincoln, NE
It is mid-afternoon when Steve Roberts arrives at the front gate of the farm. He is dressed in a worn pair of jeans and a Journey Concert T having changed back to the road. He is confident that there is no need for Master Warrior to show up here looking for Joe Rogers. He doesn’t want to appear as a threat to the farmers either. Steve scans his surroundings and what he can see of the property from the driveway. For a soybean farm there appears to be a lot of security. An eight foot tall fence topped with barbed wire is a clear sign to keep out. Or is to keep in.
In the trees along the driveway Steve’s sharp eyes spotted several large black crows. The birds are something he remembers from his dream last night. He is struggling to remember finer details of that dream. It is as fuzzy as some of the first ones he had years ago. Almost like there was some kind of interference in the reception of a transmission. Although the birds give him a more ominous feeling than usual making him feel there should be no need to breach this fence, someone should be coming along soon.
Steve is right as when a middle-aged man dressed in overalls and a wide brimmed hat appears over the hill in the driveway on the other side of the gate. He carries a large machete in his hand. Steve can’t be sure if that is a threat or if he was just working on the underbrush at the side of the driveway. About ten feet from the gate he shouts, “You have no business here!”
“My car broke down on the road, could I please use your phone to call for service?” Steve calls to the rather angry looking man.
“We have no phone here, be on your way!” the man replies, raising the large knife to waist height.
“You are going to send me back down that long driveway without even offering to help me?” Steve questions feeling nothing but suspicion for this whole situation. “It is miles to anywhere from here.”
“Do I have to spell it out for you?” the man behind the gate shouts. “You are not welcome here and we have no help to give you!” The man stares Steve down now threateningly holding the machete. “Go now or you will have worse than a broken down car!”
Steve does not try to persuade the machete wielding man any farther, he simply turns and heads back down the driveway. Walking down the driveway toward the gate Steve spots the black crows making a wide circle around him. Steve anticipates he only needs to get out of view of the gate and the man inside the fence.
Once out of sight of the gate Steve relents to trigger the change to Master Warrior. An aerial approach is the best way to survey this property. Launching himself into the air about two hundred feet he heads back toward the farm. The air is thinner at this altitude, but it is also out of range of the spy eyes of the crows he spotted in the trees, generally they do not fly this high.
From the air the property appears to be nothing more than a working farm. There are many men, women and children toiling in the fields. Finding one man might not be as easy as hoped, if he is even here. It has been years since he has seen Joe Rogers, there is no telling how he might have changed. Luckily many of the people Master Warrior surveys are younger than the father of his former friend Gary. Circling overhead, Master Warrior can only single out three older men with white hair on the property. One of them works in a crop field to the north of the farm, the two others to the east.
Master Warrior circles back to the man working alone hoping it is Joe Rogers. Descending down to ground not far away behind a large oak he switches back to his street clothes. Approaching the kneeling man from behind Steve asks, “Excuse me sure.” “I seem to be lost.”
The man turns holding out a gardening trough as he stands to say, “You sure are lost!” This man is clearly not Joe and he is clearly not friendly. It seems to be a running trend around here.
“Please, I don’t want to cause any trouble,” Steve says, backing away. “I was just looking for an old friend of mine.”
“You have no friends here!” the grey haired man shouts lunging with the trough forward. Steve slaps the man’s arm aside, freeing the trough from his grasp. The older man is not done yet as he tries to throw a punch in Steve’s direction. Dodging the punch, Steve uses his shoulder to give the man a shove to the ground.
“Stay down, sir,” Steve says, turning to walk away. He takes only about four steps when his danger sense warns him of the man’s continuing attack. Steve really doesn’t want to hurt this guy, but he just will not quit. Tumbling forward to the ground Steve avoids the swipe of the gardening trough. Back to his feet he changes to Master Warrior to leap back into the sky. As he flies upward he hears the squawking of the crows in the nearby tree. It is again an ominous sound to him.
As he turns to the east field he thinks, trying to be friendly was obviously a mistake. A mistake he will not make again. Coming down to land in front of the other two white haired people, he tries to appear much more threatening. “I am here for Joseph Rogers!” Before he can even get a good look at either of the men one of them takes off running toward the main house. “No, wait I just want to talk to you!” he shouts.
Jumping back into the air, Master Warrior flies faster than Joe Rogers can run. He lands directly in the man’s path causing the older man to hit his chest and fall back to the ground. The white haired man is dazed for a moment giving Master Warrior more than enough time to get a look at him. His hair is white and he has some more wrinkles but this is without question the man he seeks. “I just have some questions for you?” “Where is your son?” “Is he here?” “Is Evin Crow the same Dr. Crow who kidnapped him before in Ohio?”
“Son?” the confused man at his feet repeats. “I have no son!”
“Yes, you do!” Master Warrior affirms. “Gary, Gary Rogers is your son!” “I need to find him!” “Is he here with you?” Before Joe Rogers can speak again a large black crow swoops down at Master Warrior. Raising his gauntlet to shield his face, the bird is only seconds away from taking out his eye. The force of the blow sends the bird to the soybean field, dead.”
“The Immortal will not be pleased,” Joe mumbles fearfully. “You have killed one of his flock.”
“Indeed he has!” a stern voice from behind Master Warrior announces. “I do not take kindly to trespassers attacking my flock!”
Master Warrior turns to face the man. His voice is not the one that spoke to David and him at Mudhouse Mansion. The man’s face is the same as the mugshot Paddy had shown him of Evin Crow. Unlike Joe, Crow has not aged a day in the nine years since he was imprisoned. Plus he looks to be in great shape for a dead man. “Are you the Dr. Crow who kidnapped Joseph’s son Gary?” he asks thinking he knows the answer.
The handsome man smiles for a moment, “Perhaps.” “I had wondered how long it would take for one of your kind to invade my paradise.” “You are quite the catch in my net I must admit.” “Such a young little immortal.” “I hope you are not naive enough to believe you could take my place with my clan.”
“I must admit I came here filled with suspicion of what you were doing,” Master Warrior confesses. “Now that I am here I am even more convinced it is nothing good.” “You have enslaved these people, haven’t you?”
“No more than any of them deserved,” the Immortal responds. “Everyone of them had nothing but contempt for human society.” “I freed them of that, just as I will do for you.” Right before Master Warrior’s eyes, the man calling himself the Immortal dissolves into vapor. The human sized cloud swiftly moves forward to envelop the hero. Master Warrior swats his arms pointlessly as he breathes in the fog that was a man. He does not so much as cough or choke as his eyes roll back and he hits the dirt like a ton of brick crushing down many soybean plants.
Philadelphia Elite Squad office
1st precinct
Philadelphia, Pa
Detective Berger and Officer Maguire are alone in the office as they finish up paperwork that Commander Olpere has requested. “Any word from Steve yet?” Maguire asks his partner.
“No but it has only been a few hours,” Berger answers.
“Was it wise to send him alone?” Maguire asks. “If the Commander where to find out you sent a civilian on police business out of state concerning one of our most wanted she would not be happy.”
“That is why she will not find out until I have the answers I need to move forward,” the Detective assured his partner. “Besides, Steve can handle himself, don’t forget he worked here before you did.” “What about that other thing I suggested you keep an eye on?”
Officer Maguire gets an uncomfortable look on his face. “You were right about that too,” he replies. “I made an inquiry at Jefferson and Michaelson told me he informed Zadlo he would be talking to the Commander about his on the job injuries.”
“So he lied to the doctor about how he has been getting injured,” Berger confirms. “Not surprising I guess.” “He has been acting oddly of late.” “Taking files home with him and not bringing them back the next day.”
“I also happened to catch a glimpse of him wearing his vest home tonight,” Maguire reveals. “I don’t think he knew I was in the locker room when he was seeking out early this afternoon.” “I also think Bower has been covering for him.”
“Unfortunately I think Bower just doesn’t care,” Berger says getting up from his desk. Detective Berger heads toward Commander Olpere’s office with the files she wanted him to look over.
Entering the office, the Commander sits alone going over several recently submitted reports. Looking up while taking a sip of her hours old cold coffee, “What is it, Berger?”
Laying the files on the desk, “I’ve reviewed these bios for new candidates for the Squad.” “None of them are going to work!” “Some of them have a better chance of being arrested by this Squad than joining it.” “Just because Michaelson has found people with the Zeni-marker, I’m not sure we should be the ones to tell them what they are capable of doing.” “I think it would be best if these people learn about themselves on their own.” “Or not at all.”
“I understand your concern,” Commander Olpere replies, sitting down her coffee cup. “When former Commissioner Stanley put this unit together he had motivations none of us knew about.” “When you and Roberts brought him down, it became clear that he chose people for this squad he wanted to keep an eye on.” “Unfortunately for him it led to his downfall.” “I have given you the job to find new candidates because you know what this squad needs to be.”
“Then you are not going to fight me on this,” Berger replies in surprise.
“No, your decisions will be final,” Olpere asserts. “Keep in mind that Commissioner Aspen has given us the budget to bring on four new members to the squad because of the increase in Zeni-human crime.”
“In fact, I will start a watch list with your recommendations for these candidates,” the Commander says, picking up the files from her desk.
Steve Roberts & Patrick Berger’s apartment
1701 Tulip St
The Fishtown section
Philadelphia, Pa
Paddy arrives home as David Rogers and Julie Snyder are heading out of the building. “Hey, Paddy, do you have a minute?” David calls at the off-duty police Detective.
“What is on your mind, David?” Paddy asks as David gives his fiancee a glance. Julie continues to walk toward the car. Paddy watches as she gets in the parked car to wait. “What’s with that?” Paddy asks.
“She knows I wanted to talk to you privately,” David responds. “Where is Steve?”
“Didn’t he tell you?” Paddy asks in surprise.
“Just that he was back from camp but had to go out of town for an unspecified time again,” David answers. “To tell you the truth, I don’t know how much longer I can run my business with an employee who is A.W.O.L. so much.” Paddy isn’t surprised by the statement, but his face must be betraying him. “It is just getting married, I need to think of the future and run my business more responsibly.”
“I understand completely,” Paddy says, putting his hand on David’s shoulder. “I think Steve will understand that, when the time comes to let him go.” “As far as where he is, I think he might have not told you the whole story because of it.” “I sent him to Nebraska to find your Uncle Joseph.” “He might be our only lead to finding your cousin.”
David looks both surprised and disappointed at this news. “What is my Uncle Joseph doing in Nebraska?” he asks.
“It would appear that he joined a cult run by the man who killed his wife, Jillian,” Paddy explains. “Did you know the truth about Jillian’s death and who caused it?”
“Evin Crow?” David suggests putting the man together for the first time. “I had almost forgotten about him.” “I was older than Gary and Steve at the time, but I thought he died in prison.” “You don’t think Evin is the Dr. Crow that kidnapped Gary, do you?”
“We don’t know for sure, but the Elite Squad has no authority in Nebraska, so Steve was the only one that could do what needs to be done there if things get out of hand.” Paddy explains.
David looks to his fiancee waiting in the car. “I could have gone.” “If anyone is going to get information about Gary out of my Uncle Joe it is me!” David insists.
Paddy looks at the car, “I think Julie is part of the reason he didn’t tell you too.” “He had a bad night last night, I heard he had some bad dreams.” “I think he might be an exception to some big trouble.”
“How big of trouble could there be with my Uncle Joe?” David questions.
“Your Uncle might not be the trouble, we have no idea what danger Evin Crow presents,” Paddy explains. “At the least he faked his own death or possibly resurrected himself.” “Don’t keep your fiance waiting, there is nothing you can do now.”
The Philadelphia Bulletin Offices
An Alameda International LTD. Newspaper
112 South Third Street
Philadelphia, PA
It is after dinner that Pete Stapleton sits at his desk reading back over his most recent article. He has spent many late nights by his desk phone waiting for a tip. Nevertheless this article is still not at all what his editor wants from him. His recent windfall of being sole interviewer of Master Warrior started out great. Now his editor is pressuring him to get more on the man he has learned is more of a friend than he would have ever guessed. Pete know it is wrong of him to depend on Master Warrior to continue to support his career. That is why he has tried to pursue other avenues of local heroes.
The Immortal walks around the table to inspect his new disciple. His attention is drawn to what appears to be a diamond stud in the earlobe of Master Warrior’s left earlobe. The Immortal can feel the power contained within it. “Jojo gave me that jewelry in his earlobe!” the Immortal instructs his loyal servant. Joseph Rogers steps up to the man lying unconscious on the table to remove the diamond stud from his ear. Instantly Master Warrior reverts to civilian clothing. “Well, he does not look as threatening now!”
In recent weeks there have been reports of another mystery man in a mask fighting street crime in the Kensington part of the city. By all accounts the man is a skilled fighter and has taken wounds that should have been lethal. Something not unlike he has seen Master Warrior do. Pete has tried contacting Steve about this mystery man but has been given the brush off at every turn by his roommate Paddy Berger. Ever since learning Steve’s secret he has not had a chance to speak with anyone about it. Perhaps that is for the best.
Pete is tired, it is time to call it a day. He straightens up his desk preparing to leave, when the phone rings. “Hello, Pete Stapleton, how can I help you?” The caller’s voice is panicked. “Is he there now?” Pete questions. “Where, where did you see him?” “Kensington, 177 W. Allegheny Ave, okay.” “Which direction was he headed?” “Thank you, thank you!” Hanging up the phone Pete grabs his jacket and makes a run for the elevator.
Inside the elevator he fumbles through his wallet to check for cash to pay for a taxi. By dumb luck he has enough, a taxi is the fastest route to Kensington.
KFC
177 W. Allegheny Ave.
Philadelphia, PA
Jumping out of the taxi, Pete is frustrated that it still took him nearly twenty minutes to get here. Scanning the street he sees no sign of trouble that would draw in this new mystery man. If Jimmy has been lying to him his time as an informant is over. Storming into the KFC in search of the store’s manager. Making his way to the pimple faced kid at the counter he demands, “I need to see the manager Jimmy Washington!” “Now!”
“Mr. Washington!” the kid wearing a name tag labeled Benny shouts over his shoulder. “A customer would like to talk to you!”
The tall slender black man emerges from a small office behind the counter to gesture at him, “Come back here with me.” Pete steps around the side of the service counter and past Benny to walk back to the small management office along the wall. Jimmy brings Pete around his small desk to view a security monitor. “I did what you suggested, changed the angle of the cameras to point up at the sides of the buildings.” “I caught this right before I called you.”
Pete leans over the desk to watch the small TV recording. A man dressed in dark clothing crawls out the third floor window of the buildings across the parking lot. He scales down the side of the building using window ledges and drain pipes to the street below. As he passes closer to the camera it is clear that he wears a black ski mask hat to hide his face. “No way is that hat justified in this heat,” Pete comments. “Do you know what that building is?” “He might actually live there.”
“That is camera 3, it points at the side of the building that faces N. 2nd St.,” Jimmy explains. “He then takes off running up N. Palethorp St toward Allegheny.” “Camera 1 picks him up out front to head east.”
“Good work, Jimmy,” Pete says, taking a fifty dollar bill from his pocket. “This is the best tip I’ve had all week.” “Keep the camera’s set like this if you can, let me know if he comes back.” “There is another fifty in it for you.”
Pete heads out the back of the KFC to the parking lot in question. Standing outside the fence that divides the two parking lots Pete looks up at the building. The window the mystery man came out of appears to be at the end of a hallway and not in an apartment. Scanning the street the man ran down he considers trying to follow him even though it has been nearly an hour. It is dark and the neighborhood is unfamiliar to him. Pete has lived in the city all of his life and his mother has taught him how to take care of himself.
Making the decision Pete begins the walk back across the lot toward Allegheny Avenue. Walking east toward Hancock St. nothing seems out of the ordinary for this part of the city. Pete thinks through all of the recent police reports that suggest the existence of this mystery man. All of them in this part of the city. It would only make sense that he lives near here.
Pete can’t help but to consider how angry his mother would be if she found out he has been snooping through the police paperwork she brings home. He has known from the start that it was a risk using his connection to the Commander of the Elite Squad. He has kept his mother’s identity to himself for years not wanting to use it to get ahead. Now it feels like that is exactly what he is doing.
Pete keeps his head on a swivel not seeing anything to alert him of any unusual activity. If he hadn’t seen that man scale the side of that building with his own eyes he would think Jimmy was sending him on a wild goose chase. Since this mystery man first appeared he has been intervening in domestic violence in the Kensington section of Philly. Pete has been tracking domestic calls for weeks, always just missing the mystery man. Whatever inside information this guy has it must be better connected than Pete.
Pete Stapleton has always had a good memory and spending his time looking over the Newspaper archives for Domestic disturbances he has memorized streets where calls tend to happen.
The Smith farm
S 98th St
Lincoln, NE
Jojo and Donnie carry the unconscious Master Warrior into an out building away from the rest of the farm buildings. The two men struggle to lift the man’s dead weight up onto an old wooden table in the center of the small building. There is not much else in the shed than the table, a few wooden chairs and a wood burning stove in the corner. The men are silent as they stand back watching the man on the table breath as if every breath might be his last.
Then Master Warrior lets out a large exhale that causes a cloud of vapor to be released from his mouth and nose. The mist swirls over the unconscious man collecting itself for a moment. Then it moves away, lowering to the floor to take the form of the man known to the others in the room as the Immortal. He does not say a word to the men who stand behind him with their heads bowed in respect.
Even after all of these years Joseph recognizes his son’s friend Steve Roberts. It is like a window to his past is cracked open a few inches.
“Give it to me!” the Immortal commands hold out hand. Joseph does as he is told as he had done for nearly ten years now. The Diamond stud drops from his fingers onto the palm of the Immortal’s hand. It takes only seconds for the leader of the Cult to cry out in pain as the small piece of jewelry burns through his hand. The other two men in the shed watch in shock as the ear stud drops to worn wood boards on the floor. “Son of a Bitch!” the Immortal shouts, grabbing for his hand. “Jojo with me!” The leader shouts, holding his wrist as he turns toward the shed door. The hole in the leader’s hand is cauterized by the magic of Master Warrior’s ear stud. The Immortal turns his back to his loyal disciples as Jojo retrieves the small piece of jewelry from the floor as he follows after him. “Donnie, strip him down and dump him in the wilderness miles from here!” the Immortal commands as he leaves the room.
Alone in the shed with the unconscious man. Donnie’s spelled mind can not quite comprehend what he has witnessed in the past few minutes. The man who only minutes ago wore a colorful costume, now wears old jeans and a concert t-shirt. The shirt is rather loose fitting concealing his body underneath. Donnie has seen many new arrivals after the Immortal’s treatment, so he is aware that this man will be unconscious for many hours. In the past he has seen some people sleep for a day. Donnie has no idea that what he does next will change his life forever.
Nevertheless Donnie gently lifts the man up to a seated position on the table to pull his shirt off his arms up over his head. Laying the man back down making sure not to bump his head. He tosses the shirt over the table to the corner by the stove. Donnie stands over Steve for a few minutes looking down at him. A bead of sweat drips down his forehead. Almost instinctively Donnie reaches out his finger to touch the drip of sweat. Bringing his finger to his lips the cultist to taste the saltiness from the other man.
Memories of the recent days, not his own flash in Donnie’s mind. Then Donnie turns back to look at the shed door. He isn’t sure why but what he has learned is making him nervous about someone walking in. Stepping over to the shed door Donnie slid the wooden cross-bolt across the door to hold it shut.
A row home
2922 Kip St
Philadelphia, PA
Pete is across the street from the house from where he hears the gunshot. He turns to see a second bullet shatter the front window of the old row home. Then a man crashes through the same window after the third shot is fired. Landing in the street the man’s body causes the cars to skid and veer out of the way. Until one of the cara finally runs the man over. The traffic on the street coming to a stop, Pete runs into the street to attend to the man. “Call 911!” he shouts. The man laying in the street is dressed in dark green camouflage clothing and a black ski mask. Cars all around them begin to honk. There is no mistaking this is the man Pete watched crawl down the side of a building. He has a shotgun shell spray on his chest that has been caught by a Bulletproof vest hidden under his clothing. Pete is sure he recognized the exposed letters to “oli” showing through the blast hole. Instinctively Pete reaches to pull the wool hat off the man’s face.
“No!” the man shouts, grabbing Pete’s hand as he sits up. Pushing the reporter aside the mystery man jumps up to his feet to charge back into the row house from which he was just thrown. As Pete gets up to walk to the crib, people flee from inside the surrounding homes to form a crowd of onlookers on the sidewalk.
Everyone can hear shouting coming from inside the home. “About time someone did something about those two!” one of the women standing on the sidewalk comments.
“Does this go on a lot?” Pete asks the crowd.
“Two, three times a week,” the neighbor replies. “Police don’t even come anymore when I call.”
As the shouting gets louder it is clear that the masked man is trying to talk the couple down from shooting again. Pete takes a deep breath to bounds up the stairs to the door. The door is still ajar allowing him to slowly peek inside. On the other side of the door is a walled off hall and flight of stairs to the second floor. Slipping inside, Pete tries to stay silent and hidden against the wall. There is a cased doorway that enters into the living room. Peeking around the corner into the room, he spots the broken window to the street out front of the house. There is no one in the living room but he can still hear voices close by.
As Pete moves into the living room along the wall toward the next connecting room he hears the sirens of arriving police, at last. He is not the only one to hear the police arrive as the voice in the next room becomes raised again. Spotting a silver tray on an end table, Pete grabs it to use it like a mirror around the cased doorway into the dinning room. Moving the makeshift mirror he scans the room without being seen by the angry resident. A woman and two small children are huddled on the floor at the far side of the dining room. In front of the frightened people on the floor, the Masked mystery man stands defending them from the large angry black man who shouts about his rights. In his hand the large man holds the loaded shotgun that he used only minutes ago.
“Please just put the gun down, your children have seen enough violence tonight,” the masked man pleads. “I am only here to help.” Pete can see the masked man glare directly at the silver tray he holds in the doorway.
Pulling the tray back Pete presses his back to the wall. He knows he should leave, but he still needs this story. Looking closer at the tray in his hand he realizes there is a white residue on it. Then on the floor next to the table where he found the tray he spotted a razor blade and rolled up dollar bill. Cocaine? he ponders. Is this guy high on coke? Listening to the man rage incoherently at the masked man it appears to be a good guess.
Pete contemplates if there is anything he can do to help for a moment, short of getting himself killed. Whoever this masked man is he must be either the bravest or stupidest man in the city. Looking at the phone on a table by the front window he thinks to call Steve. He could surely handle this situation in minutes.
But before Pete can even manage to sneak to the phone there is another gunshot and the woman screams. His hand trembling Pete raises the cocaine tray up to view the scene again. The masked man now lays on the floor with the woman crying over his bleeding body. “What have you done?” she shouts at her stoned husband.
“Mr. Jackson, it is the police come out unarmed!” the voice of a megaphone announces from outside the house on the street.
Pete views the scene in the dining room having no idea how he is going to get out of this house. Then he hears the man begin to cry as he watches him drop to his knees. He places the Shotgun under his chin and pulls the trigger a final time to fall over to the floor, dead.
Without another thought Pete races around the doorway to the crying woman who tries to help the man on the floor. “Take your kids and get out of here!” he tells her. “The police are outside, tell them what happened.”
“Who are you?” she shouts at Pete as she looks to her husband not far away on the floor bleeding. “What are you doing here?”
“Just get out of here before the police start coming in!” Pete shouts at her. “Go, go now!” As the wife gathers her scared and sobbing children to take around their father on the floor, Pete tries to help the masked man. He almost expects the man to sit up again, but he does not. This second gunshot blast was more lethally aimed. It has caught the masked man in the side of his head, stripping away half the ski hat. Pete tries to peel the bloody and burnt wool from the man’s face. He is shocked by what is revealed as the side of the man’s face that is unharmed. It is one of his mother’s officers, Mark Zadlo. He is the new Mystery man of Philadelphia?
“Sir, Sir, you need to get out of here now!” a cop tells Pete as he lifts him from the floor by his shirt collar. “Get him out of here!” the cop says, handing the reporter off to another cop entering the scene behind him. “Lock this place down now!”
The second cop drags Pete by his arm out to the street. Pete’s hands and shirt are covered in blood. “What were you doing in there?” the cop demands. “Do you live here?”
“The frightened woman by the ambulance shouts, “He killed my husband!”
“NO!” Pete shouts. “I need to talk to Commander Olpere, that is one of her men in there!”
The name Commander Olpere has become something of a pariah to the Philly PD. The simple mention of her name causes every police officer to react differently. “Commander Olpere!” the cop repeats. “How do you know her?”
Pete hates to admit it but, he has no choice with what this crazy woman has just accused him of doing. “She is my mother and one of her men is shot in there!”
Friday, July 8, 1988
Northeast Philadelphia Police Force
7th District
1701 Bowler St,
Philadelphia, PA
It is three in the morning and Pete Stapleton has sat alone in a holding cell for the past 5 hours. His hands and clothing still covered in Officer Zadlo’s blood he fears these cops have believed that crazy Kensington bitch and not him. He has nearly lost all hope of getting out of here tonight when he hears the click and clank of the lock on the cell block gate as it is opened. A single clip-clack of shoes come down the cement floor toward his cell. When the footsteps come to a stop at the front of his cell he at last looks up.
“Well young man, what do you have to say for yourself?” Commander Olpere asks her son as if he is fifteen and in trouble for the first time.
“Are you here to get me out or prosecute me?” Pete questions.
“It should be the latter,” Olpere replies. “What were you thinking?”
“Is that what you asked Officer Zadlo?” Pete retorts. “Did he even survive that point blank shotgun blast to the head?”
“Never mind that Mr. Reporter,” Olpere tells her son. “Open 12,” she calls to the guard at the end of the cell block. “I suggest you go home, get cleaned up, burn those clothes and forget what happened last night ever happened.” Stepping aside she lets her full grown son walk out of the cell past her. “And don’t ever do something so stupid again!”
Monday, July 11, 1988
Philadelphia Elite Squad office
1st precinct
Philadelphia, Pa
Detective Berger sits at his desk trying to keep his mind on his job as he looks over another applicant’s file left on his desk by Commander Olpere. This one actually has promise, he thinks, Samuel Jones. He kind of reminds him of Steve when he started. “I’m going to give Steve a call,” he says across his desk to his partner as he reaches for the phone.
“Still no word?” Officer Maguire asks. His partner gives him a glare. “Sorry it is an old habit.” “I can feel your anxiety all the way across the room.”
“Steve, where have you been?” Detective Berger shouts over the phone. “You have been missing for three days!”
“Three days? Steve Roberts repeats as he lays on his bed at home.” “I just woke up when the phone rang.” “Where did I go?”
“Look we’ll be right over!” Paddy replies.
“Don’t be silly, I’ll come there,” Steve says. “Where are you?”
“No this was an off the books thing, it is best if we come there,” Detective Berger insists. “Grab your stuff, Steve is back!” The two men hurry out of the office before anyone else arrives at the squad room.
Steve Roberts & Patrick Berger’s apartment
1701 Tulip St
The Fishtown section
Philadelphia, Pa
Detective Berger and Officer Maguire arrive at the apartment in record time. The kitchen and living room are both empty. Berger gestures to his partner, “Come on.” Leading Maguire to Steve’s bedroom door he knocks. “Steve, are you in there?”
“I guess so,” a voice replies from inside.
Entering Steve’s bedroom they find him still laying in bed, naked on top of the bedspread.
“Oh wow,” Officer Maguire exclaims, turning to look away.
Detective Berger grabs the blanket from the end of the bed to throw it over his nude roommate. “What’s going on?” “Why aren’t you dressed?”
“Dressed?” Steve says innocently. “What would I be dressed as?”
“Something is wrong with him,” Officer Maguire says, turning back around. “All I am getting from him is confusion.” “Like that of a lost child.”
“Getting off me?” Steve says, throwing back the blanket to slide off the edge of the bed. “Who are you guys anyway?” Steve stands up to nonchalantly walk to the bathroom. He stands to piss in the toilet in direct view of the other men.
“Steve, you are clearly not all right,” Detective Berger says, taking his roommate’s robe from the hook on the bathroom door. “Put this on.”
Steve walks toward the policemen asking, “Why?”
“To make us more comfortable,” Officer Maguire suggests.
“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Steve asks innocently.
“Just put it on buddy,” Detective Berger says, tossing the robe at Steve’s chest. Steve puts on the robe to tie it closed. “Now sit down and tell us the last thing you remember after you left Thursday morning.”
“Who are you guys anyway?” Steve asks.
“Are you serious?” Paddy exclaims. “You don’t know who we are?”
“Yes, he is serious,” Maguire says, stepping closer to Steve to reach out and touch his forehead. “Like I said he is confused, very confused.” Maguire’s hand touches Steve’s head for a second before the man brushes it away. Maguire staggers back.
“Hey, what are you doing?” Detective Berger scolds, propping Officer Maguire up.
“I think you guys should leave now,” Steve says, taking off his robe and getting back in bed.
“That has never happened before,” Officer Maguire says, taking hold of his head to shake off the experience. “I felt everything, all of it.”
“All of what?” Paddy questions. “All of what?”
Officer Maguire looks to the man under the blankets of the bed. “His emotions, or rather his only emotion.” “He has nothing but confusion.” “It’s not that he forgot us, it is like he can’t make sense of anything in his head.” “Like he has had a massive stroke or something.”
“That isn’t possible.” “What about something like hypnotism?” Detective Berger suggests.
“I guess, I never felt anything like that before,” Maguire says.
“Felt what weirdo?” Steve calls from the bed.
“I think I connected with your subconscious,” Maguire hypothesizes.
“Can you unlock it, get his mind back to normal so we can find out who did this to him?” Berger questions.
“No, my power doesn’t work like that,” Maguire answers. “If it is hypnotism, isn’t there a word to release him?”
“Do you know that word?” Paddy asks, “I don’t.” Maguire simply shrugs his shoulders. Paddy looks at his friend sitting in the bed and notices something for the first time. The stud earring on his left earlobe is gone. “Shit!” he exclaims, stepping to the side of the bed to have a closer look. “His ear stud is gone.”
“So he was robbed too,” Officer Maguire suggests. “Was it worth a lot of money?”
Paddy has forgotten that Craig does not know Steve’s secret or what the ear stud can do. Then it strikes him. “Steve does that diamond work for anyone other than you?”
Steve reaches his hand to his left earlobe to feel where the piercing was but it has already healed closed leaving no scar. “I don’t know what you mean.” Steve says. “I really don’t understand any of this.”
“You need to get up and get dressed, you are coming with us,” Detective Berger tells him.
“I don’t need to do anything with you!” Steve asserts.
“Yes, you do,” Detective Berger says, pulling out his badge. “You are under arrest.”
The Smith farm
S 98th St
Lincoln, NE
The farm sits far off the road out of sight of people driving down the street. It had almost been lost to foreclosure by the family that owned it for generations until a savior arrived. Now the land is worked by more than fifty dedicated farm hands. One of them, Joseph Rogers toils in the field alongside many other people of various ages. He has never questioned his safety here until a few days ago. He has lived here in hiding for years never once regretting the debt he owes.
As Joseph kneels in the soybean field to pick the pods from the bush, he fears that his past has come after him. Crow has assured him that his solution to the problem is a final, irreversible one. Which worries him more, Joseph knows full well that murder is something Crow has used before to solve problems. Jillian was one problem Joseph was grateful to have Crow solve. Sure Steve Roberts was something of a troublemaker when his son was growing up but he did not deserve to die.
“Hey Jojo,” one of the other members of the community calls out walking toward him. “The Immortal wants to speak to you.” “In the loft.”
“Yeah, thanks,” Joseph replies, getting up to dump his basket of beans in the collection bin as he heads down the field toward the barn at the far end of the property. Joseph knows there is only one reason for a meeting in the barn, so no one can hear your screams.
It is a short walk to the old barn giving Joseph time to think over his last trip to the hay loft. It was just after his arrival at the farm. As he enters the barn it is the same as he remembers it from that first time. The heat inside the barn on a July day makes the smell of the black Angus that are housed in it even more pungent. Joseph remembers how confused he was at his first meeting with Crow in the hayloft. This time he is fully aware of the purpose of this meeting.
After several minutes of breathing in the smell of cow manure, Joseph begins the walk toward the steps to the loft. He must concentrate on controlling his temper, not let Crow know the truth. He must show no sign of his state of mind. Reaching the top of the steps Joseph takes a final deep breath of the hot pungent air.
The floor of the hay loft is covered with straw, three of the walls lined with bales of straw. The sun shines through the large open wooden door at the end of the loft. There is no sign of Evin. This does not surprise Joseph, nor does his arrival. Turning to the back of the barn the sun behind him Joseph cast a shadow on the wall of hay bales.
As Joseph stands motionless his shadow begins to grow bringing a dark gloom to the loft that defies the sunlight. The performance does not phase him, having had many such experiences with Evin over the years. The shadow then takes human form again to stand only a few feet in front of Joseph.
“My old friend Joseph, it has been years since we last spoke in this loft,” the leader of the cult who has given himself the name Immortal says. “How our relationship has changed over the years.” “Beginning with taking turns banging your wife, to killing your wife, to you being my slave.” The Immortal paces around behind the man to guide his hand across his back to his shoulder. Leaning Joseph forward into a huddle-like position he whispers, “But you are no longer my slave are you?”
Joseph tries to respond calmly but his fear bleeds through. “No, Immortal, I live only to serve you and the Clan.”
The Immortal releases his disciple to step back in front of him. “I so wish I could believe that.” “I must admit I was pleased that you did not flee the moment you were free of my power.” Joseph stands wishing he had a shot of Jack Daniels in fear of what is to come. “I would have never guessed that my spell would have ever been broken by the arrival of that young man.” “He has grown into quite an impressive man.” “But even I recognized him as a friend of your son from so long ago.”
Joseph accepts there is no escape from what he knows comes next, so why hold back. “What did you do to that boy?” Joseph grips the diamond stud in his fist tightly. After it burnt through the Immortal’s hand he seemed to forget it ever existed. Joseph picked it up from the shed floor and has kept it in his pocket ever since. Whatever its power, it has freed Joseph from the Immortal’s spell over the past few days. His only chance is that he will do it again.
“I know there is no way you have gained a conscience now,” the Immortal grins. “Know that I have handled it and he will not be returning to wake your black heart again.” “You should be asking what I intend to do with you?” “The last time I played on your fear of taking my place on trial for the murder of your wife and the conviction that sent me to jail.” “I must admit your fears of prison were much more horrific than what I actually endured.” “Although it did end the same.”
Joseph falls to his knees a broken man, “Please Evin, I am still completely loyal to you!” “I will never betray you!” “I beg you!”
The Immortal laughs aloud at the once angry and violent man on the straw covered floor. “The fact that you call me by that name tells me you can not be trusted.” The Immortal steps up to Joseph to shove the index and middle fingers up Jojo’s nostrils. “Nothing will save you this time!” “Once you experience the fear of your wife’s revenge!” The Immortal’s fingers dissolve into mist as does the rest of his body. Joseph cries aloud, taking a deep breath inhaling the Immortal’s dark essences.
The cult leader fully absorbed into the other man’s body, he falls backward onto his feet into a deep trance filled with terror. It takes only a few minutes for Joseph Rogers to begin to scream out in terror as he lives out a horrific twisted reality.
Philadelphia Elite Squad office
1st precinct
Philadelphia, Pa
Office Maguire escorts a handcuffed Steve Roberts into the Elite Squad Office to put him in the low security holding cell. Detective Berger follows the two men into the office straight to his desk. He has an idea but isn’t sure it will work to restore Steve to normal.
“What is the plan?” Officer Maguire asks, sitting at his desk across from the Detective.
“A report came across my desk last week about a hypnotist arrested in New York who was ripping off clients,” Berger explains. “I have the number of Detective Sgt. Prussia in New York here somewhere, he works in a Unit similar to ours.” “He should know something that might help us out.”
Commander Olpere returns to the office to see the man in the holding cell. Approaching Berger’s desk she inquires, “What is he doing in lock up?”
Detective Berger takes a deep breath. The Commander has no idea that he sent Master Warrior to Nebraska to investigate Joseph Rogers. “Steve has experienced some kind of memory loss.” “I needed somewhere to keep an eye on him until I could find out what happened to him and how to reverse it.”
“Then why is he in our cell and not the hospital?” Commander Olpere questions.
Berger isn’t sure how to answer the question without revealing his true motives for not having Steve examined by a doctor. Maguire offers an answer, “I had an unusual experience with him.” “His injury is only mental not physical.”
Olpere looks at the man in lock-up to silently weigh their explanation. “Will that cell even hold him?” the Commander asks Berger.
Paddy has guessed a while ago that the Commander is suspicious about his roommate. “I’m not sure he even remembers his name.” “He was very intimidated by my badge, I think he will stay put.”
While Paddy calls Detective Sgt. Prussia in New York City, Craig heads back out of the office to follow another lead. Paddy sits with his back to the holding cell leaving Steve to his own devices.
Sitting alone on the hard plastic bench in the cell Steve isn’t even sure where he is. All he is sure about is he can not leave. He looks around the walls, the bars and the room beyond. His mind has no ability to focus on any of it. The only thing he seems to be able to focus on is himself and how confining his clothes feel. Why did these police make him put these garments on? He feels like his body parts are being crushed by these tight jeans. No one pays him any attention as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans to slide them down.
Across the room at his desk Paddy turns around to see what Steve is doing. Shocked, he drops the phone to the desk to stand up abruptly, sending his chair to the floor. “Jesus Christ!” Paddy exclaims. “Stop doing that!” He rushes toward the holding cell. “Put your clothes back on!” Opening the cell door he steps inside pulling Steve to his feet by the arm. “You can’t do that here!” “You’re worse than a horny teenage boy.”
“I don’t understand, what am I doing wrong?” Steve argues. “It felt nice to me!”
“Just pull up your pants,” Paddy demands. “Put your shirt on too.”
“But these clothes are so restrictive,” Steve argues, reaching down for his pants.
“Jesus Christ!” Paddy bemoans, “Just do it!”
“Is there a problem here?” Commander Olpere asks approaching from behind Paddy.
Paddy spins around standing to block the Commander’s view of the half naked prisoner. “No, not at all, ma’am.” Paddy responds. “Steve is just having a problem understanding propriety.”
Thomas Jefferson University Hospital
V.I.P. Ward
111 S 11th St
Philadelphia, Pa
Commander Olpere waits in the hall for Dr. Michaelson to come out with his report. Officer Zadlo has been unconscious since he was shot Friday night. She is not at all pleased with any of the events of the weekend. Her son being arrested, finding out one of her team has been running around the city as a vigilante, she needs to find a way to explain it all to the Commissioner.
When Michaelson emerges from the room the Commander begins her questions. “Is he going to wake up soon?”
“I have absolutely no idea,” Dr Michaelson replies. “Zadlo’s body works unlike anything anyone has ever seen.” “I have done everything I have in the past to bring him around.” “His head injury is extreme, he shouldn’t even be alive!” “The strange way his body heals there is no telling what or who he will be if he wakes up.” “I’ve made a call to a specialist I know in Canada, she is flying in tomorrow.”
Commander Olpere does not look pleased, “None of this might have happened if you had informed me of his previous injuries.” “In the future I will need daily reports from you on any member of my team that comes to you for treatment!”
“Understood, Ma’am,” Michaelson answers. “I trusted him, I had no reason to do otherwise.” “There is something else, if he is in fact brain dead, there might be no way to put him out of his misery.”
“What are you saying exactly?” Olpere asks.
“I am telling you that when he was brought in he had no blood in his body, no heartbeat,” Dr. Michaelson explains. “His heart had stopped because it had nothing to pump, once we gave him blood it spontaneously started again.” “People who are brain dead often are put to rest, I am not completely sure Zadlo can ever die.” “His tissue does not heal correctly, nor does it decay the same as normal tissue.”
“You make him sound like a vampire or something,” Commander Olpere says.
“That isn’t too far off truthfully,” the doctor replies.
“Nevertheless, I want to see him,” Commander Olpere states. Dr. Michaelson opens the door to the private room inviting the police commander inside. Olpere walks up to her Officer’s bed side. He has his broken ribs bandaged and his head is bandaged from the top down to the bridge of his nose over his left eye and cheek. Several monitors blink and beep next to the bed beside several IV. bags.
“We managed to get all of the shotgun pellets out using a magnet,” Dr. Michaelson tells her. “But we have no way of predicting how his brain will heal, if at all.” “With every injury he has had it has healed completely unpredictable.
“Other than medical questions, when he wakes up no one is to speak to him before me,” Commander Olpere instructs sternly. “I want to be notified the moment his eyes open!” “Is that understood?”
“Yes, ma’am!” Dr. Michaelson replies.
Anna M. Kross Center
1616 Hazen St.
Flushing, NY
It is early evening when Detective Berger, Officer Maguire and Steve Roberts arrive in Flushing, New York. They stand in the parking lot by the car making sure that Steve knows all of the rules to behave himself inside the prison. “I’m not going in,” Officer Maguire says. “This is not a good place for someone like me.”
“I understand,” Detective Berger says with relief. He has no idea what is going to happen inside so it will put less risk of Steve’s secret being revealed.
“Paddy and Steve make their way through the front gate to the prison. Steve is silent as they walk across the courtyard toward the building. Paddy is more concerned that Steve will do something he can not control. They have both met Detective Sgt. Prussia before, but Paddy is sure Steve will not remember him so he says, “When we get in there keep your mouth shut, let me do the talking.” It feels weird to treat Steve like a child, but basically that is what he has become without his memory.
Steve simply nods his head as they enter through the door past two guards. This place makes him nervous, fearing he is going to be locked up here too. Inside the facility a large black man waits at the reception desk. Steve feels more than a little apprehensive about meeting this man. He meets eyes with the man who appears to recognize him just as Berger and Maguire did earlier.
Detective Berger approaches the large man to shake his hand. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this,” the Philadelphia Detective says.
“I’ve pulled every string I have to pull to get you this meeting, so it goes without saying you owe me big,” Detective Sgt. Prussia informs Berger as he turns to Steve to shake his hand as well. “You I did not expect to see, I had hoped you took my advice.”
“What was that?” Steve says confused.
Detective Berger quickly intervenes not wanting Steve to reveal his true condition or the real reason they have come here. “I did some research on your guy, he is a Philadelphia native.” “How did he end up here?”
“He wouldn’t tell us anything,” Prussia explains. “His power is rather unpredictable.” “We’ve had to keep him in solitary?” “The FBI managed to find a family where many of them are born with immunity to most Zeni-Human powers.” “Several of them have been willing to join a task force to guard the growing threat.”
“Something it would appear the FBI has been keeping to themselves,” Detective Berger comments. “We have been relying on experimental tech.” “I brought a new device that should help you nullify this guy’s power,” Detective Berger explains as he pats his breast pocket.
“That is not possible you were searched on the way in,” one of the guards responds to their conversation.
“Yes, I was,” Berger says, giving Prussia a confident look.
The guard on duty leads Detective Berger and Steve to the interview room at the end of the hall. Entering the room the prisoner is handcuffed and chained to a large metal table that is bolted to the floor. Against the back wall a large hispanic man dressed in a uniform different from the other guards stands. He wears a badge that reads FBI Correction Officer Lamas. The man looks rather young for the job, barely 18 at Paddy’s guess. The concept of being immune to most Zeni-human powers is new to Detective Berger, he can understand the value of such a talent.
When they are brought into the visitor’s room Philip Double recognizes Steve Roberts instantly. “You must be joking bringing this guy here!” Double announces to them. “He is the reason my life has gone to shit!” Instantly he leans forward in his seat to lock eyes with Steve trying to seize control of the powerful man like he did previously. Philip knows that Steve Roberts could be the key to his escape. Then unexpectedly his power repealed forcing him back in his chair. “What the Fuck, man!”
The guard quickly steps forward to grab Philip by the shoulder. “His visit is over!” Lamas states firmly.
“No wait, it will be fine now,” Detective Berger insists.
Philip shakes off the strange ricochet. “Someone has completely screwed up your head!”
“That is why we are here, can you fix it?” Berger asks.
Philip gets a large grin on his face as the guard steps back. The moves onto Paddy giving him a hypnotic gaze. “Nope, not going to work on me either,” Detective Berger smiles.
“Does everyone have powers now?” Philip asks. “Whatever you have is small but enough to stop me.” “Whoever did that to him has a different kind of power.” “That power is hypnotic, but on a strange level, not at all like mine.”
“Can you at least tell me the word to break the trance and put him back to normal?” the Detective asks.
Philip can’t help but to laugh again. “Don’t be so foolish, it doesn’t need to be a word, it could be as simple as seeing a beloved person or a piece of jewelry to break the trance,” Philip explains.
“Jewelry?” Detective Berger whispers to himself instantly putting together the missing ear stud. “So all I need to find is the one thing to break the trance.” “Like true love’s kiss?
“I would not know about kissing, that would be my sister,” Philip replies smugly. “But thanks to this asshole she is dead.” Steve sits in total confusion over the conversation having no idea of what Philip is talking about. “But you don’t remember Phoebe, do you?”
“I’m sorry no,” Steve replies, shaking his head. “Were we close?”
“Not as close as she would have liked,” Philip sneers. “Well if you ever get your memories back in order to know that she died because of you!” “Guard, take me back to my cell!”
“Not so fast,” Detective Berger says, grabbing the inmate’s arm to slap a metal band on it that instantly locks around his wrist. “A little present.”
The guard, Lamas, takes Philip Double from the interview room while Paddy and Steve exit back to the hallway on the other side of the interview room. When they return to the guard station Paddy stops to talk to Prussia. “That shackle I put on Double is the latest thing from our research lab.” “It gives off a small magnetic charge into the body, the only effect is to disrupt mental powers in the wearer.” “If there should be a problem or you need it removed, just call our research guys.” Detective Berger hands Prussia a plastic coated business card. “We’ve been using them for a few months now, they work perfectly as long as the wear only has a slight mental power.” “Should you need it anymore, give them a call and they will be glad to help you out.”
The Philadelphia Bulletin Offices
An Alameda International LTD. Newspaper
112 South Third Street
Philadelphia, PA
Pete Stapleton has sat quietly at his desk for the past two days trying to go unnoticed by his editor. He has been getting away with only turning in fluff pieces for the paper, promising his big story is yet to come. Problem is his big story has found a blockade that he calls Mother.
The things that he saw Officer Zadlo do while wearing that mask make him think that the Elite Squad are more than meets the eye. A fact he should have put together before, seeing as Steve was a member of that team. Pete knows full well that if he writes an article about the Elite Squad his mother would not be pleased at all. Going over all the information he has completed for the story that is going nowhere, he hangs his head.
He doesn’t even notice it at first, the stirring of a commotion in the room. Then he feels a presence standing over his desk. Pete looks up to the expectation that the only person it could be is Master Warrior. Moving to stand Pete says, “It is so good to see you!”
To Pete’s surprise it is not who he assumed. Howard Alameda stands in Pete’s cubical smiling down at him. Howard Alameda owns this paper and many others across the country. And he is standing over Pete’s desk. “I assume you were expecting someone else,” Alameda says, reaching out his hand.
“Sir, forgive me,” Pete babbles, taking the man’s hand. “It is a pleasure to meet you.” “I can’t believe you are here?”
“Is that how you greeted Master Warrior on your first meeting?” Mr. Alameda asks. “I too bring you a story you can not refuse.” Pete is still dumbfounded by this man’s presence in his cubicle. Alameda looks deeply into Pete’s eyes and everything else in the room seems to fade. “An old friend of yours, Gary Rogers, shall we say is lost and out of control.” “The man behind it is known as Dr. Crow.” “Find Dr. Crow, find the Supreme Warrior, bring together the others.”
The spell Alameda casts over Pete Stapleton, fades leaving only a subconscious echo in his mind. “Yes, thank you,” Pete babbles again. “I will look into that tip.”
“I know you will,” Alameda replies. “A pleasure to meet you.
Tuesday, July 12, 1988
Trademark Investigations
1267 Pimlico Avenue
Camden, NJ
David Rogers sits at his desk going over recent billing and expenses. His agency has been staying afloat, but not growing. The check from the Philadelphia Police Commissioner has been a big help to that success. He looks across at the empty desk and chair. David had hoped that bringing Steve on would have doubled his billing to grow his business further than it has in the past year. Now knowing Steve’s secret, it explains why he keeps disappearing and taking so much time off. Steve’s persistent absence has been a detriment to his plans. But can he really blame Steve. That young man has a lot on his plate and it is not selfish by any means.
Then the door opens and a woman steps into the small office. She looks vaguely familiar to him. “David Rogers, may I help you?”
“I know who you are, David,” the woman replies. “I’ve come to help you and myself at the same time.” My name is Tricia Morrison, I don’t know if you remember me, but I am Brenda’s older sister.”
The name triggers a long forgotten memory of a family gathering. “Brenda, Aunt Brenda?”
“Yes, ” Tricia answers. “I know that you have believed that she has been dead for years now.”
“Believed?” David says confused. “She died giving birth to my cousin Gary.”
“I am afraid that is not true,” Tricia explains. “My parents were not happy with Brenda’s choice of husbands.” “They are rather wealthy and saw this as an opportunity to get her away from your Uncle Joseph.” “They paid off the doctor to fake her death so they could sneak her away from her abusive life.”
“So they just left Gary, a new born to be raised by my Uncle alone?” David questions.
“I can not justify what my parents did, but they wanted nothing to do with your Uncle Joseph or his child,” Tricia answers. “My parents told Brenda the child had died and that she needed to start over without Joseph.” “I was out of the country, going to University in Europe at the time.” “A year later when I returned home, they lied to me as well.”
“So why are you here now?” David asks. “The better question is, when did you learn the truth?”
“It had been nearly twenty years later, when my father passed away,” Tricia begins. “At his funeral my mother told me the truth of what they had done.” “By then my sister was living in San Diego with a whole new family.” “There was no way I could tell her the truth, unless I was sure my parents were wrong about what they had done.” “It was around the time that Gary had gone off to college in Cleveland, Ohio when I found him.” “I had no idea what became of his father and thought it best not to care.” “I moved to Cleveland and got a job at the college to meet Gary.” “I had not known Joseph very well, having only met him in passing two decades earlier.”
“You didn’t miss anything, my Uncle Joseph had always been something of a dick,” David says.
“As I had heard,” Tricia confirms. “From the first time we met I could tell that Gary was a troubled young man.” “He appeared bi-polar to me.” “Something that might go unnoticed even by the closest friend or family member.” “Trying to be his friend I attempted to get him help, but he resisted.” “Eventually he rejected everything I was trying to do for him.” “When I learned his building had burnt down, I feared the worst. “After learning he was not one of the victims found inside, I began to search for him again.”
“If he was in such bad shape why do you even care?” David asks, knowing the truth about Gary’s disappearance that this woman does not. The timing of her appearance seems very suspicious to him. “Did you even tell him who you really were?”
“Like I said, I did not agree with what my parents had done without my knowledge. “I couldn’t recommend a reunion with his mother, but I do have the money to get him the help he might need.” “Now he is missing and I hoped you could help me find him.”
David sits back in his chair, he knows that without confirming anything this woman has told him he shouldn’t trust her completely. He can only dull out information that the common man might know. “I have been looking for him too.” “He seems to have vanished off the face of the Earth.”
“Perhaps the face but not the subterranean,” Tricia suggests. “Gary sometimes spoke of a man he had met at a bar in town.” “A Dr. Crow, Gary told me of an underground cave that that man had taken him to several times.” “I fear that is where he might be, hiding if not held prisoner.” “Gary never told me the location of the place, and frankly I feared that it and this Dr. Crow were just figments of his troubled mind.”
David isn’t sure what to make of any of this, a woman he has not seen in two decades showing up out of the blue with outrageous claims. Now she speaks of Dr. Crow, what are the odds of this being another trap set by the mysterious Doctor.” “I truly don’t know what I can do to help you when I have hit nothing but a dead end looking for him myself,” David finally replies, deciding to keep his cards hidden. “Are you staying close by?” “If you leave me your phone number, I can call you if I turn anything up.”
“I would greatly appreciate that,” Tricia says, reaching for the pen and pad that he hands her to write on. “Please I still want to pay for any care he may need once you find him.” “I would expect that you are going to want to contact my mother and sister as well to collaborate my story.” “Here are their numbers and addresses also for you.” “Please don’t jeopardize what I have been doing.” “My mother has dementia, but she can still be triggered into a rage by mentioning Joseph Rogers.” “And my sister has no idea her son is alive.” “I insist you not tell them who you are or that I have found Gary.”
David simply nodded his head not sure what he would do when the situation arose.
The Smith farm
S 98th St.
Lincoln, NE
Detective Berger and Steve Roberts arrive on 98th Street in a rental car at the driveway leading a mile back to the farm. “Are you sure you have remembered everything I went over on the ride here?” Paddy asks again as they sit in the car.
Steve takes a deep breath and licks his lips, “I should not tell them where I have been or why I came back.” “Tell them I still do not remember my name.” “Play along with whatever they say to me.” “Keep looking for a Diamond ear stud like this one in the photo.” In his hand he holds a photo of an ear stud similar to the one he has worn since becoming Master Warrior.
Grabbing the photo from his friend’s hand Paddy says, “I had hoped the photo would have been enough to break the trance, but apparently you need the real thing.” “Then once you find it, what do you do?”
Steve is silent for a moment before replying, “I put it to my left ear and force it in, piercing the lobe.” “That sounds painful, do I really have to do that?” “I mean why?”
“It will all make sense once you do it,” Paddy encourages. “It will only hurt for a second, after that you will know what to do next.” “I’ll be at the local police getting help.” Steve sits in the passenger seat unmoving for several minutes. “Come on buddy I know you can do this, I’ve seen you do much riskier stuff before breakfast.”
“But I don’t remember any of that,” Steve replies. “Two days ago I didn’t even know my name.”
“After this is all over you will remember everything you have forgotten, I promise,” Paddy encourages again. “All you have to do is play along with everything that happens, you are tougher than you remember.”
Letting out a large sigh Steve opens the door to step out onto the dirt shoulder of the road. He stands at the side of the car for a moment running through everything Paddy has told him. It has become easier and easier to remember things over the last few days. Then he turns to begin his walk down the driveway. It is more of a dirt road than driveway, wide enough for two way traffic. It is a hot and sunny day, A crow circles over him high in the sky. Steve really doesn’t feel the heat as much as he should, that doesn’t stop him from wanting to strip off his clothes. But Paddy insisted he not get naked unless he is taking a shower. It is a strange rule but until this weirdness is over he will follow it.
The walk down the road to the farm is uneventful until he reaches sight of the gate at the fenced in pasture. His presence on the road draws the attention of one of the inhabitants herding the cattle. He stops what he is doing to run to meet Steve at the gate. The man appears angry at Steve as he shouts, “The Immortal said that you were to never return here!”
“I have no place else to go,” Steve replies. “I have been lost for days and this place looks familiar to me.” “Please can’t you at least offer me a drink of water?” Steve recites the lines just as Paddy instructed him.
“Stand down, Harold, I will handle this,” The Immortal instructs coming down the driveway inside the gate behind the man. The large crow that had been circling overhead drops down to land on the Immortal’s shoulder. It is an impressive site as the wild bird squawks from its human perch.
Are you the owner of this farm?” Steve asks naively. “Can you help me?” “I am lost.” Nothing Steve has said is a lie, truthfully he has been lost for the past week. He does not recognize anyone who he has come in contact with all week. He doesn’t even know how he got to that apartment in Philadelphia. He can only have faith that he is doing the right thing. That Detective Berger has not led him wrong.
The Immortal glares with his deep green eyes into Steve’s blue eyes seeing that his spell still remains. The sinister man remembers the sweet fear that his power created in this nearly fearless man to enforce this spell and he smiles. “Let him through, I am sure I can find a place for him now.” “Take him to the barn to meet Jojo.”
DeScalo Estate
Ridley Park
South Philadelphia, Pa
DeScalo Estate is more heavily guarded than it appears. These security precautions mean little to a man like Albert Dinesen. He has spent his life walking on the edges of what is normal and what is supernatural. Avoiding normal security measures is like a walk in the park to him. He enters through the front gate strolling past several guards completely unseen by them. Albert makes his way completely undisturbed by everyone in the house.
Albert doesn’t waste a moment heading to the basement of the house to a large walk-in safe. It is dark in the basement, forcing Albert to take a small flashlight from his pocket. Stepping across the cold damp basement toward the large steel and iron door at the back of the building. He pays no attention to the floor as he walks to his destination. Then suddenly all of the lights in the small room outside the safe come on.
“I do believe you are trespassing, Sir,” Nicholas DeScalo states standing at the second doorway into the room. Two other armed men enter the room, one behind DeScalo the other behind Albert. “You should know that I got rid of most of the occult things I collected.” “That safe is nearly empty.”
“I want only what Giorgio stole from me, I seek only the return of my property,” Albert Dinesen replies.
“I think not,” Nicholas replies. “I think you will find that you will not be leaving here at all let alone with your property.” “Look to the floor.”
Albert looks down at the now well lit floor that he walked over in the dark. A pentagram with several occult symbols drawn on it in what appears to be blood. “Quite impressive,” Albert compliments. “This spell is strong enough to break the spell of my invisible crown.” He removes the brass crown that sits on his head to slip it into the bag he carries over his shoulder. “But as far as imprisoning me, not so much.” “Like you I am completely human.” “This spell is mostly used to catch demons, your father knew that.”
Albert steps out of the pentagram to prove his point triggering the men to raise their guns. “That will make killing you much easier then won’t it,” Nicholas grins. “My father’s dabbling has caused some strange things to show up on my doorstep, that is the only reason I keep this trap set.” “Dealing with thieves is much easier than Hellspawn I must admit.”
Albert Dinesen has spent the better part of his fifty years hunting, fighting and banishing demons; human threats hold little fear to him. He has an unusual ability to do whatever it takes to defeat a demon. Sometimes fate allows him to use that ability on regular people as well. This is one of those times. “I might not be as easy to kill as you think,” Albert grins. “I hunt the things that you call Hellspawn.” “Unlike your father I do not use them as playthings, I banish them back to where they belong.”
“I assure you none of my father’s playthings as you call them are still here,” Nicholas asserts. “You’ve come here to die not kill.”
“You speak like a man who has killed many, you are not so different from the things I hunt,” Albert suggests. “Human life is to be cherished and not dispatched so easily.”
“Just kill this Mother Fucker!” Nicholas demands and his men begin to fire. All that is heard for several minutes is the sound of bullets hitting the stone walls. When the gunfire stops the men do not see what they expect.
“I may be human but I do have some talents,” Albert Dinesen says, still standing, completely unharmed at the edge of the pentagram. “Now if you don’t mind I will retrieve what I came here to get.” Dinesen steps toward the large walk-in safe door to pass right through it.
“Get more men down here!” Nicholas shouts. “He is going nowhere when he comes out!” It takes several minutes until Albert returns to the basement room. Six men now stand with automatic rifles aimed at the safe door and Albert.
“If your men fire those weapons at this safe door the only ones getting killed will be all of you, by the ricochets,” Albert suggested.
It takes only minutes for DeScalo to say, “Lower your guns,” to his men. “So I am to just let you go with Lord knows what?”
“Only my property,” Albert replies. “The spirit soul jar that Giorgio stole from me and a few other things that are too dangerous for you to keep.” “I will make sure they are dealt with properly.” “I left The Emperor’s Crown as payment.” “Its power might come in handy to a man in your line of work.” “Funny thing is most of the stuff your father collected is nothing more than junk.” “He might have paid a lot of money for the stuff but it has no real power.”
Albert Dinesen then walks forward to the stairs, passing harmlessly through the shocked seven men gathered in the room.
The Smith farm
S 98th St.
Lincoln, NE
Steve is taken to the barn by three men that seem to fear him for some reason. They act as if he is dangerous as they open the tall barn door and shove him inside. Steve can hear the wood scrap as they lay a beam across the outside of the doors. The barn is just what anyone who has been in one before would expect. Steve on the other hand is confused by almost everything he comes into contact with that Paddy had not explained to him in the car.
On the floor at the center of the barn a man lays moaning. Steve walks over to the man to stand over him. Looking down at the man in the fetal position on the dirt floor he can see that Jojo is crying. “Are you okay, Buddy?” he asks. Steve gives the man a nudge with his foot. “Hey, I am talking to you.” “What are you doing in here?”
Jojo stops sobbing for a moment to roll onto his back. He opens his eyes wide to look up at the man standing over him. Jojo sees Steve through teary eyes as he reaches up his hand. Steve is confused, not sure what he is supposed to do. Jojo’s arm drags against Steve’s body to take hold of the pocket of his jeans trying to pull himself up. “Please,” Jojo whispers. “Please, help me….”
Steve takes the man’s arm, freeing it from his pants pocket he lifts the man up. Not knowing his own strength, Jojo is lifted from the ground to hang by his arm. Steve looks up at the man’s tear stained face. “What is wrong with you?” he asks.
“I am sorry, I am sorry for all of it,” Jojo sobs as he digs his free hand into his own pants pocket. Steve watches the man’s hand fumble in his pocket. When his hand emerges he offers it forward to Steve. “Take it!” Between his thumb and forefinger Jojo holds the small diamond ear stud.
Steve recognizes the small piece of jewelry, it looks like the one from the photo Paddy showed him. Yet it is different as the sunlight that creeps between the old barn boards hits it. Steve reaches out to take it as Paddy instructed, still not liking the idea of what he is to do next.
“So, you do still have your strength without the suit,” the Immortal says as he enters the barn. Steve turns and drops Jojo to the floor. “You really have no idea what is going on here do you?” “If I were to ask you what happened to Donnie, would you even have an answer?” Steve looks to the three men behind the Immortal. Each of them holds a sharp gardening tool. Paddy warned him there is no telling what these people are capable of doing. He told Steve he might need to fight his way out. Fight, he has no idea how to fight. The sharpness of a machete, a sheath and a claw rake frighten him. The arms of the men welding the gardening tools give him little hope of stopping them from using them.
The Immortal looks to his first disciple on the floor. Jojo continues to sob, having endured emotional pain beyond description. “I must admit I have enjoyed our time together.” “The sweet brotherhood of taking turns fucking your wife,” the Immortal smiles to Jojo’s sobs. “Remember the time we fucked her at the same time?” “You do, don’t you?” Stepping closer to the man on the floor as Steve stands unmoving, just watching him. “You do don’t you?” “Somehow you have managed to resist my power.” “This shit has changed you!” “I can change you too!” The Immortal raises his hands to clap them together loudly. Instantly Jojo is transformed as he falls back to the floor a flat paper thin image of himself. He lets out one final gasp of air. Joseph Rogers lays dead on the floor like an old scrap of fleshy paper.
Then the Immortal turns back to Steve, who stands in horror at what he has witnessed. No longer questioning what he was told to do, Steve holds the small ear stud in his fingers. He raises it to his left ear and forces it through the flesh. The moment the stud pricks his finger behind his ear, he is transformed.
Master Warrior looks to the three men that only moments ago Steve Roberts feared. The confusion and fear are gone now. Reaching for his arsenal on his leg, it is transformed into a quarterstaff. The three men charge him, one swinging a machete that he slaps down mid-blade then across his face to the floor. Next he uses the other end of his staff to hook the blade of the Scythe, flinging it across the barn. Only the man with the claw head rake remains. This man is more skilled with the handle of the rake than the prongs as he and Master Warrior begin to duel.
Master Warrior smiles admiring the cultists skill and determination. Every bit of control and training his mother taught him has returned. “You are good,” Master Warrior says as he locks up to the man bringing his knee to the cultist’s gut. “Just not good enough.” The final man falls to the dirt floor of the barn leaving only the Immortal still standing. “You will not take me again,” Master Warrior says, changing his arsenal to a mace.
The Immortal smirks at him, “I do not need to take you, I need only dispatch you!”
The New York Bulletin
4501 Rockefeller Center
New York City, NY
Pete Stapleton arrives at the sister Newspaper office, a name in his head, Martin Harper. Getting directions from the receptionist at the front desk, he is issued a visitor’s pass to place on his own I.D. Pete heads up to the fifth floor. Exiting the elevator he finds his way to the cubicle of Martin Harper.
“Martin Harper?” Pete questions the man seated at the desk.
“Yes,” the reporter replies. “How can I help you?” Martin eyes Pete’s Philadelphia Bulletin badge. “Pete Stapleton, I recognize your by-line.” “You are the one who interviewed Master Warrior.”
“Yes, yes I am,” Pete blushes at the thought that this man knows his work all the way up here in New York.
“We have something in common, I have been tracking Miracle Maiden,” Martin replies. “How did you ever get an interview?”
“Hard to believe, but he came to me,” Pete says honestly. “But I am here to speak with you about someone called Dr. Crow.”
Martin wheels back in his chair. “I haven’t heard that name since I was in Seattle.” “He was a serial killer in 1930 Seattle.” “Weird thing was the bodies of his victims were never found, only life size photos.” “In the end, he was hung.” “The Olympia earthquake on April 13, 1949 the cemetery where Dr. Crow was buried was unearthed.” “Crow’s grave was empty.” “There were many rumors about it.” “The most likely explanation was that the body was stolen before the police and fireman arrived.” “But the name Dr. Crow shows up throughout American history.” “Even before his arrival in 1930 Seattle.”
“Like were?” Pete questions.
“The 1600’s in Province of New Hampshire; 1700’s Wilmington, North Carolina; 1800’s Cleveland, Ohio….” Martin tells.
“Wait, Cleveland, Ohio?” Pete interrupts. “Did you say Cleveland, Ohio?”
“Yes, a place called Mudhouse Mansion in Fairfield County,” Martin adds. “I have to ask, why did you come here to ask me about Dr. Crow?”
“I had a visit from Howard Alameda,” Pete answers. “It was a strange meeting.”
“Yes, I had one of them too,” Martin confesses. “That is how I ended up here in New York.”
The Smith farm
S 98th St.
Lincoln, NE
The Immortal raises his hands preparing to make the clap that will turn Master Warrior to little more than a flat sheet of skin lying on the floor. “As powerful as you humans believe you are, you are no match for one such as I!”
“We will see about that,” Master Warrior says, raising his own arms to bring his gauntlets together. A blast of stored concussive energy is released striking the Immortal. The leader of the cult becomes nothing more than mist, the blast barely touching him as it rips through the back side of the barn.
The Immortal’s body solidifies again, his grinning face snarling at Master Warrior. “Is that all you have?” the man challenges. Master Warrior knows it is a risk to move too close to the Immortal. Losing his memory again could be permanent this time. This man’s power is too big of a mystery to him. For the first time since becoming Master Warrior he doesn’t know what to do next.
Master Warrior’s dilemma is cut short when the doors of the barn burst open. “That will be enough, Demon,” Albert Dinesen announces entering the barn. “Your Gremlin tricks have come to an end!”
Now it is the Immortal who shows fear as he lowers his hands turning his attention to the mid-aged man who has entered the barn. “You must be joking old man,” he purrs. “This human brute has no hope of besting me, how could you?” As the Immortal speaks Master Warrior lashes out with the mace in his hand allowing the chain to lengthen and wrap around the Immortal several times.
The man steps toward the bound cult leader. “I am a hunter!” Dinesen asserts. “And you are the hunted!” Dinesen takes a small iridescent bottle from his shoulder bag to hold it out at arms length. “Demonic gremlin spirit within a corpse be bound within this jar of glass!” Instantly the Immortal is turned to vapor against his will and sucked into the small jar held by the demon hunter. Dinesen corks the bottle to place it back into his bag.
Master Warrior stands holding the handle of his mace as the ball and chain drop to the floor. “What just happened here?” he asks. “Did you just murder that man?” transforming his arsenal into a sword.
“That was not a man,” Dinesen replies calmly. “He was a gremlin bound to a corpse.” “Everyone of the people on this farm is an unknowing victim to him.” The demon hunter gestures to Joseph Rogers now laying dead on the floor completely in three dimensions. “He pushes people to their lowest point to consume their soul.” “Unlike some demons, gremlins are not so easily dispatched.” “Imprisoning them on a Spirit Jar is a much easier solution.” “There is no need for the weapon, my name is Albert Dinesen, I am a Demon Hunter, have been for most of my life.”
Master Warrior’s mother has told him about many things that exist in the world that ordinary people believe are only myths. Demons are one of those things. As well as Demon Hunters, it is a skill passed down through a family lineage. The existence of a Demon Hunter in the twentieth century does surprise him. “What of the other people at this farm he leaves behind?” Master Warrior asks. “What can we do to help them?”
“That is not an easy solution,” Dinesen suggests. “The gremlin imprisoned, his power over them will wain.” “Over time most of them will be able to return to the lives they had before he made them his slaves.” “Perhaps some might choose to remain here, continue the life they found on this farm without Evin Crow’s influence.” “I would guess that what they had here might have been better than any life they had before the Gremlin came into their lives. “You are called Master Warrior, aren’t you?” he asks. “Might I ask why you so easily accept my claims?” “I mean most people these days would dispute the talk of demons.”
“I am not most people,” Master Warrior replies. “You clearly have knowledge of things outside the norms of modern society.” “As do I.” “Since taking up the mantle of Master Warrior I have witnessed first hand many things I can never make publicly known.” “Most recently a Satyr.” “Unlike the Satyr, I was not immune to Evin Crow’s power.” “I must thank you for your intervention.” Master Warrior returns his arsenal to a belt that wraps around his thigh.
“Not at all.” Dinesen chuckles. “I would have taken the gremlin down if you had been involved or not.” “I have been tracking him for years, only recently I was able to find the Spirit Jar I needed to imprison him.”
“You say you’ve been tracking him for years?” Master Warrior questions. “I came here looking for this man,” he says, referring to Joseph Rogers. “I have been looking for his son that is missing, maybe taken by someone going by the name Dr. Crow.” “Not long ago a friend and I were taken captive by a Dr. Crow in Ohio.” “I never saw his face but he seemed to know me.” “Joseph Rogers being here with a man named Crow, who went to jail for murdering his wife was too much of a conscience.”
“Dr. Crow?” Albert repeats. “That is a legend from Ohio, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Master Warrior answers. “Could Evin Crow have been the same Dr. Crow who manipulated Joseph’s son Gary over the past couple of years?”
“From my research of Evin Crow he has been wandering the world for a very long time,” Dinesen reveals. “I do believe that he was the individual who created the Dr. Crow legend in Ohio, but that was a hundred years ago.” “I tracked him to Washington state, then Philadelphia and to here in Nebraska.” “He has been cultivating this identity as the Immortal for nearly a decade.” “It is unlikely that he would have returned to Ohio for any reason.” Dinesen takes a seat on a hay bale as he loses himself in thought for a moment.
Master Warrior looks back to Joseph Rogers on the floor. “What about Joseph and the others that have died by the Gremlin’s power?” Master Warrior ponders. “I have seen so much suffering and loss recently at the hand of supernatural creatures.”
“I am afraid, what is done is done,” Dinesen tells Master Warrior as he looks up at him. “That suffering and loss is the reason most human minds block out the existence of the supernatural.” “It would appear that like I, you do not have that luxury.” “What exactly are you, young man?” “I can tell that you are more than just a Zeni-human.”
“You also seem to be different from anyone I have met so far,” Master Warrior suggests. “Other than the Triad, that is.” Dinesen smiles at the mention of the three old witches. Dinesen has passed his test. “My mother was an Amazon,” he reveals.
“You truly are an unusual young man then,” Dinesen replies. “Demons are not the only thing I am aware of in the world.” “That would explain why you are immune to the power of Mythic creatures and not demons or witches.” “Amazons and Mythic creatures are in the same category.” “Demons and witches are much different.”
“Good to know,” Master Warrior nodded.
“I assume your mother instructed you in many things outside the normal world in the realm of the supernatural,” Dinesen asks. Master Warrior nodes again. “Then I am sure you know about a natural phenomenon called a Mystic Source point.”
“I have encountered a few recently, not that I can take advantage of them at all,” Master Warrior explains.
“You might be surprised what you can take advantage of in time,” Dinesen replies. “It is not widely known that if a Mystic Source Point is used to free a demon it is transfigured into something called an Apex Point.” “Once soiled in such a manner that place can never again be used by a light mage.” “A place called Mudhouse Mansion in Ohio is an Apex Point that Evin Crow used to gain more power.” “Evin used up all the power he could acquire from that place, that is why he moved on and why he can not return there.” “That does not mean someone else could not use that evil place and assume the identity of Dr. Crow.”
“You are telling me that what happened to me at Mudhouse Mansion could have been almost anyone, another demon even?” Master Warrior suggests. “That demon could still be hiding there, using that power?”
“Most likely not a demon, but someone just as dangerous,” Dinesen reveals. “I would guess if it was a demon that attacked, you would not have fared any better than you did with Evin Crow.”
Master Warrior knows that his only lead left to finding Gary is still that place in Ohio. He only wishes he could get some kind of premonition about all of this, but as usual his dreams never work to his advantage. Looking around this place he still can’t help but to want to help these people. “Isn’t there anything we can do to help the rest of these people at all?” Master Warrior asks.
“The less they or the world knows about the true nature of Evin Crow the better it will be for everyone,” Dinesen explains. “For everyone involves it is best if we leave to allow the chips to fall where they may.”
Steve Roberts & Patrick Berger’s apartment
1701 Tulip St
The Fishtown section
Philadelphia, Pa
Paddy and Steve arrive home late after a red eye flight back from Nebraska. “Sorry, I slept the whole plane flight back.” “I didn’t think those Nebraska State police were ever going to let me leave,” Paddy says, flopping down in his chair.
“At least they released Joseph’s body to the Elite Squad,” Steve replies, heading to the kitchen to get a snack.” “I’ll let David know to call you about claiming it.” “Do you really think the Zeni-CSI team will find anything of use on him?” “The supernatural is far beyond scientific study.”
“It was the only way Olpere would pay for this whole undercover trip,” Paddy explains. “I thought I had heard everything, but this demon thing is another level of crazy.”
Steve returns to the living room wolfing down a ham and cheese sandwich. “I know, I feel like I need to apologize for all the craziness I have opened you up to witnessing.” “It is a lot for me sometimes too.” “I don’t know what I would have done if not for you with this one.” “But if not for Joseph I might have never gotten my memory back.”
Paddy stands up to approach Steve as he finishes his sandwich. “There is no need to apologize,” he tells his roommate. “A few years ago I probably would have blamed you for all of this shit.” “But I have since come to accept that there is something called destiny.” “If not for you I would still be the world’s oldest beat cop and I would have never learned about my Zeni-power or my true calling.” “In a way I think Rogers realized that too.” “Everything he had done in his life led him to that moment when he could help you or not.” “He knew what he was doing when he betrayed Crow.”