Tuesday, February 2, 1988
1267 Pimlico Avenue
Camden, NJ
Steve Roberts arrives at work on time after a long night of patrolling Philly as Master Warrior. His boss David Rogers is already seated at his desk going over several billings. Steve feels as if there has been a problem between them because of what happened with Gary. The past week or so things have been getting better so this is as good a time as any. “So I’ve been meaning to ask, I need the weekend off to go to a wedding in New York,” Steve says. “I’ve known I was the last minute back up groomsman for a month or so, but I just got word yesterday that I’m in.”
“Is this the Wayne Double Wedding?” David asks looking up from his paperwork.
“Yeah,” Steve replies confused by David’s knowledge of the event. “Did Gary tell you about it?”
“He mentioned something about it when I was in Cleveland with him,” David replies. “I wasn’t sure you were going but now that you are, I’ll tell you the same thing I told him.” Steve can guess what David is about to say. “Fix it, fix your friendship before it is too late.”
“What do you mean, too late?” Steve asks suspiciously.
“When I was staying with Gary I could tell he had changed, he was not the cousin I knew growing up,” David reveals for the first time. “Everything about his life in Cleveland is unstable, he is a man on the edge.” “I made a half-assed attempt at an intervention.” “But I think he needs more than just me, he needs his best friend that he grew up with if he is to pull himself out of the mess he has made of his life.”
“This is what you have had on your mind since you got back from Cleveland, isn’t it?” Steve questions. “What could I possibly do to help him?” “Every time I try to get him to talk about the betrayal he thinks I did to him, he gets angry and changes the subject.” “I actually think the fact that I don’t know what it was makes him madder.”
“Then you need to take a different angle on it,” David suggests.
“I have to ask, why is this so important to you?” Steve quizzes David.
David gets that sad look of disappointment on his face that Steve has seen many times over the last month. “Because he has shut me out too.” “He accused me of siding with you.” “Told me he never wanted to speak to me again.” “He is my only family left, I don’t want to be in a war with him and not even know why.”
“That is why you have been acting so strange since you came back from Cleveland?” Steve suggests. David nods as the bell on the door rings.
A tall man in his fifties enters the office, he looks as distraught as any who have come into the detective agency.
“My name is Samuel Golden, I would like to hire a Detective to find his daughter, Cynthia,” he announces in a firm voice.
David gets up from his chair to greet the man by shaking his hand. “Of Course, Mr. Golden.” “If you would like to take a seat you can tell us about the case.”
“My daughter is my life,” Mr. Golden says, taking a seat against the wall in the small office. “She is only twenty and I didn’t even want her to move out of home.” “Let alone to New York City!”
“Perhaps it would be best if you started with how long your daughter has been missing,” Steve suggests to the obviously grieving man.
“It has been three weeks since I’ve heard from her,” Mr. Golden begins. “Last year after Thanksgiving Cynthia got a job in New York City working for Cross-town Delivery in human resources.” “When she came home for the Holidays she told me there was something strange going on at the office.” “I begged her to quit the job and stay with me, but she refused.”
“Strange how?” David asks as he picks up a pad of paper to take notes.
“The book keeper had been out sick and Cynthia had gone to school to be an accountant, that was what she wanted to do,” Mr. Golden explains. “Cynthia told me that money would appear in the accounts and vanish the next.”
“Sounds like money laundering,” Steve comments.
“That is what I thought, that is why I begged her to quit,” Golden says almost crying. “I feared for her safety but she wouldn’t listen.” “She insisted that everyone had been nothing but nice to her at the office.”
David stands up to reach out his hand again. “I will do some preliminary research, if we take your case it will be five hundred a day and expenses,” he says, shaking Mr. Golden’s hand again.
“I would like to pay in advance,” Sam Golden says reaching in his pocket to pull out two thousand dollars cash to hand to David. “This should be enough for two days, please find my daughter.”
“We will do what we can,” David says looking at the money in his hand.
Gary Rogers’ Apartment
Apt 222
2363 W 14th St
Cleveland, OH
Gary Rogers wakes up to the sound of his alarm. He hasn’t been sleeping well for over two weeks now. He wakes up almost as tired as when he went to bed. Alcohol seems to be the only thing that keeps him going now. Reaching for the bottle of bourbon on the night stand he takes a large swig of it.
Yawning and trying to come alive he drags himself out of bed to a cold shower. At this point the cold water doesn’t even phase him as it runs over his body. He has only a few more days of work to get through until he heads for New York. He dreads the thought of seeing Steve there. Gary only hopes that Wayne’s soon to be brother-in-law gets out of jail in time to be in the wedding. The thought of standing at the front of the church next to his former best friend makes him wretch.
Stepping out of the shower nude and wet he doesn’t even realize that his building’s heating system has given out overnight to leave the room at forty-five degrees. He looks at his face in the mirror, it has been days since he shaved but still he sees not even a five o’clock shadow on his jaw. His body has felt different as well since returning home. He backs away from the sink to look himself over in the mirror. Everything looks just as it should otherwise. Flexing his bicep he is pleased with all of the hard work he has done in the gym to make over his body from the scrawny kid that moved here to attend college.
Pulling on a clean pair of boxers he wanders to the living room to switch on the morning News on the TV. “Overnight there has been another act of what people are calling a hate crime at a local nightspot!” the Newscaster announces. “More after this break!” Gary goes about making his breakfast as the commercials run. When the Newscaster comes back she relates the latest news. “A local gay night spot was broken into and vandalized late last night after closing.” “Sadly the owner, 55 year old Harold Boardman was beaten to death during the break-in leaving no clue to the suspect’s identity.”
“Fucking Fagots!” Gary mumbles as he takes a seat at his kitchen table with his bowl of Wheaties. “Got what they deserved.”
Walter Rand Transportation Center
Camden, NJ
Some research into Cross-town Delivery, some phone calls and quickly packed bags later, Steve and David are on a train headed for New York City. On the train David unpacks the paperwork he has compiled. “Cross-town Delivery is owned by a man named James DeMarco.” “His personal wealth is something of a mystery.” “I’ve managed to get you a job as a bike messenger working for him.” “You need to learn everything you can about the disappearance of Cynthia Golden.”
“You got me a job over the phone without so much as an interview?” Steve asks curious about this company’s hiring practices.
“It would seem they are not too choosy,” David confirms. “They will even supply a bike if you need it.”
“What will you be doing?” Steve asks. “While I am peddling my ass off?”
“Going through their client lists,” David says, holding up a near ream of paper he printed out. “From what I’ve gathered glancing over it, Cross-town has many high profile clients.” “I really can’t even guess how many will even talk to me.”
Steve sits back in his seat as the vibrations and noise of the train on the track lulls him to sleep, to dream. It starts out calm enough as Master Warrior flies over New York City toward the south side.
Then he spots the gang of men he has been searching for all over the city. They think they are getting away with three robberies in a week. Guess again! Master Warrior swoops down to street level coming to land in front of the fleeing crooks. Each of them is dressed in identical grey running suits with dark blue ski masks. The four men are all the same height, weight and build as they come to a stop on the sidewalk feet away from where Master Warrior has landed.
Their faces hidden, Master Warrior has no idea what intention they have toward him. “So what have we here?” he asks coolly. The men are silent as the front two step closer to each other merging into one that is twice as large as either. Master Warrior stands transfixed as the other two men step into the combination. The behemoth stands close to 24 feet tall reaching up nearly three stories on the buildings around him. It swings his arm with a crackle of electricity. Smashing loose the bricks from a building that crumble to the street.
Master Warrior swoops into action trying to save a woman and her baby in a stroller. “Hold on tight!” he shouts, grabbing the woman to fly her out of danger. In his urgency to save the woman the baby is thrown free of the stroller. The child tumbles along the street to come to a screaming stop at the feet of the giant. Its hand crackling with energy, it points it at the squirming baby on the ground.
“NO!” Master Warrior shouts lunging forward. On the train Steve lunges into the seat in front of him waking from his dream.
“Steve are you alright?” David asks as his companion awakes dramatically.
The Essex House
160 Central Park S
New York City, NY
Arriving at the Hotel where David has booked them a room, Steve is rather surprised. “Are you charging this room to Mr. Golden?” he asks, wondering about his boss’s honesty for the first time.
“Don’t be ridiculous, this is coming out of my pocket,” David says. “Think of it as an incentive to patch things up with Gary.” “After all, the reception is just down stairs.”
In the elevator Steve contemplates his vision. It has been sometime since he has had such a disturbing one. On their walk from the trains station he saw nothing that looked familiar from his dream which is both a relief and a burden. There is no telling when the events will take place but he must figure out how to fix it before it does happen.
The room is the larger than any David and Steve have ever shared on their travels. There are two king size beds, a dining table, four chairs and a sitting area. Each of them choose a bed by dumping their bags on it. Having the rest of the evening free they go to work reading through the Cross-town paperwork.
Several hours later Steve discovers something on a client list of one of Cross-town Delivery’s users. It is a private safe deposit box service that is just across the street from the Essex’s house. Steve notices that the name Dona Palmer is on the list of deposit box holders. It is a name his mother has used in the past. She once told him that over the centuries she would squirrel away money and other valuables to reclaim if she ever needed to start over.
“I could use some dinner, how about you?” David asks getting up from the table to stretch.
“Sounds good to me, why don’t you head down to the lobby, I need to make a phone call first,” Steve tells him. After David uses the bathroom and heads out of the room Steve calls his mother.
“Hello,” Dona Roberts says cautiously over the phone.
“Hi Mom,” Steve says, calming his mother. “It’s me.”
“What is this number?” Dona asks. “It is a New York exchange.” “Are you in New York for some reason?” she asks curiously.
“I’m on a case, I came across a Central Security Corp. at 163 Central Park S,” Steve explains. “Did you have a safe deposit box there?”
“Yes, I lived in New York City several decades ago, that is where I found your father again,” Dona explains. “Oh my,” Steve’s mother says, realizing what is in the box. “You can’t let anyone get at the contents of that box.”
“Why not?” Steve asks. “What is in it?”
“Aside from some cash there is the Silver ring of Nostradamus,” Dona explains. “It is one of three rings that Nostradamus used to write his prophecies.” “Each of the rings is increasingly more powerful; the Platinum ring gives the wearer the power of Knowledge, the Silver ring gives the power to find lost things, and the Gold ring gives the power of clairvoyance.” “You of all people should know how dangerous the last could be in the wrong hands.”
“I’ve never even heard of these rings, who other than you could have?” Steve asks.
“If there is a person with the Platinum ring it would give them knowledge of the existence of the other two,” Dona explains to her son. “With the Silver ring that person could easily find the gold ring.” “The knowledge of the Platinum ring is limited, the exact location of the rings would be beyond its power, but giving a city would not.”
“So you’re telling me the person with the Platinum ring could be going around robbing places looking for the ring and you have it stashed in a security box at Central Security Corp.”
“Yes!” Dona affirms. “Moreover, I don’t know how strong that disguise of yours is but the person with the ring might be able to see through it.”
Wednesday, February 3, 1988
Cross-town Delivery
249 Elizabeth St
New York, NY
Taking a seat in James DeMarco’s office the first thing he notices is the ring on the middle finger of DeMarco’s right hand. “Is that ring platinum?” he asks, wanting to be on his guard around this man if it is necessary.
DeMarco looks at his ring and then at Steve with a raised eyebrow, “No, white gold,” he replies. “Got a thing for jewelry?”
Thinking quickly Steve answers, “No, just metal, an allergy actually.” “I’m allergic to nickel so I have to keep on top of my surroundings, I’ve gotten good at guessing metal, usually.”
“Well I guarantee the bike we give you will not be made of nickel,” DeMarco says as he passes Steve some paperwork to sign to begin his career as a bike messenger. “Sign at all of the ‘X’s.”
To Steve’s surprise Cynthia Golden enters the office to retrieve the paperwork he just signed. Surely solving this case can not be this easy, he thinks. There is clearly more going on here than meets the eye. The woman he has come here to find seems somewhat off to him as she leaves the room without a word or even a glance. Her father described her as a friendly outgoing girl not at all like this girl.
“What size are you?” “2X?” Mr. DeMarco asks as he takes a monogrammed T-shirt, tank top, and sweatshirt from a cabinet behind the desk for Steve. “Follow me,” DeMarco says, leading him to the shipping room where he gives Steve a rather broken down looking bike. “Not to worry not an ounce of nickel on it,” he tells his new messenger. “Head over to the dispatcher for your first assignment.”
Steve wheels the bike with scraped paint and a rusty chain through the shipping room. He meets the other four messengers; Dell Herman, Chuck Denton, Zeke Rathbone, and Thom Stiller. These men are similar in athletic build from years of riding bikes across the city. Steve’s muscular physique definitely stands out in this crowd as he pulls on the XXL monogrammed sweatshirt. Steve introduces himself and the men all seem welcoming as each shakes his hand. Oddly when he touches each man he gets a very slight shock almost like static electricity. That aside Steve senses something else off about them. They feel almost dangerous to him even though they do not appear so on the surface.
Steve goes to the dispatcher to get his first delivery assignment as the other guys head out the door. The package is rather large and Steve isn’t sure how he is expected to deliver it riding a bike. Strapping it to the basket over the back tire of the bike he begins out the door. About a block from the office the rusted old chain pops off making him feel as if he is almost meant to fail at this job. There is too much at stake to fail, he thinks pushing the bike into a nearby alley. Making sure no one is watching Steve touches the stud earring on his left ear to be transformed into Master Warrior. Delivering packages by air will be much quicker he thinks as he lifts the bike onto his shoulder.
Empire State Building
20 W 34th St
New York, NY
David Rogers walked out onto the street from the landmark building. This has been the fourth private security company he visited this morning. Three of them have report break-ins that stole very little, but all of them use Cross-town Delivery. He sits down on a bench to wait for a bus to take him back to the hotel to meet up with Steve for lunch for a recap.
As David waits on the bench a skinny guy on a bike wearing a yellow tank top with the words Cross-town Delivery printed on it pulls up to the Empire State building. He hoists the bike up on his shoulder and enters the building. David has to grin as he wonders how Steve’s new job is going. His thoughts are cut short as the bus arrives to take him on the fifteen minute ride back to his hotel.
The Essex House
160 Central Park S
New York City, NY
Master Warrior arrives in an alleyway a few blocks from the hotel. He sits down the Burger King bags he carries on an empty box to switch back to Steve’s Cross-town Delivery sweatshirt and jeans. Walking the few blocks back to the hotel he thinks, this bike messenger job really isn’t that bad. Maybe it would be worth his effort to buy a new bike. Who knows how long he will be doing this job?
He heads back up to the room with the fast food lunches. Waiting for David he looks out the window over Central Park. He is rather surprised that he has not crossed paths with Miracle Maiden yet. After all, Master Warrior flying around the sky has drawn some attention today as he made his eight morning deliveries. Wouldn’t it be funny if she was in Philadelphia while he was here, he chuckles. He figures Miracle Maiden is the reason his mother was so excited on the phone yesterday. She has become quite a fan of New York’s resident Superhero without ever even meeting her.
David arrives, “Sorry I’m late, getting around this city by bus is harder than I thought it would be.”
“Well I have big news, Cynthia Golden is still working at Cross-town Delivery,” Steve announces. “But there is something wrong with her, she is not the girl her father described to us.” “I get the feeling there is more going on at Cross-town than she told her father.”
“I’ll second that three of the four clients of Cross-town I visited today have reported break-ins,” David explains. “Two of them in the past week.” “I’ve got six more appointments lined up for this afternoon, I bet there will be similar stories.”
“You should make sure Central Security Corp at 163 Central Park S first,” Steve suggests. “It is right across the street and it would be easy for us to watch.”
“Great idea, New York City is a big place for us to watch all of Cross-town’s clients,” David replies, digging into the Burger King bags. “And you need to get Cynthia Golden alone and figure out why she is hiding from her father!”
Cross-town Delivery
249 Elizabeth St
New York, NY
A quick flight across town and Steve gets back from lunch to where he left the broken bike hidden. Carrying it into Cynthia Golden’s office. “I’m going to need a different bike for my afternoon deliveries,” he tells her as she looks up from her paperwork.
“Mr. DeMarco will help you with that,” she replies.
“I was hoping you could help me out, Jersey girl to Jersey boy,” Steve suggests putting the bike down on the floor.
“Excuse me?” Cynthia responds sounding offended.
“Oh, I heard you were from New Jersey and hoped you could get me a better bike than this piece of garbage,” Steve explains.
“I don’t know who would have told you that, but I’m from Albany, New York, not New Jersey!” she insists. “As I said, Mr. DeMarco will help you with your bike problems!”
Albany, New York rings a bell with Steve. That is where James DeMarco grew up. Why would she say that, if not somehow under his control.
Steve steps closer to her desk to speak softer, “Cynthia, if there is anything I can do to help you please let me know.” He reaches out to touch her hand and gets a shock just like the others. Pulling his hand back Steve can only hope that he didn’t just blow his cover.
Cynthia pulls her hand away looking at him in disgust. “You are just like all the rest of them, looking for an easy piece of ass,” she exclaims. “Well you can look elsewhere!” “Get out before I tell Mr. DeMarco and get you fired!”
Steve turns to pick up the bike and leave the office. At least he has not blown his cover but he is sure she will not be speaking with him again. Which will be bad news for their client.
Central Security Corp.
163 Central Park S
New York City, NY
After lunch, David does as Steve suggested crossing the street to Central Security Corp. At first the Public Relations Department has no intention of speaking with him until he explains that he is interested in opening a storage locker. The Public Relations Department then transferred him to the New Accounts Department that sends a representative down to meet with him.
Playing up his false interest in opening a secure storage locker he is given a limited tour of the tenth floor storage facilities. “All of our security contract agreements are for long terms of fifty years or more, requiring half the term rent up front,” the salesman explains as David views the high security rooms with large built in vaults. “Most of our clients are people with family interests that extend beyond one person’s lifetime, you understand.” “What would you say your net worth is Mr. Rogers?” the $10,000 suit wearing salesman asks.
David has had many years of being a private investigator to know how to lie on the fly. “I am not at liberty to share that information until we sit down to hammer out the details, if you do not mind.” “I want to be sure your security is up to my requirements first,” he tells the
salesman.
“I can understand your caution, but we have the top of the line all the way in security monitoring,” the salesman replies. “We have recently updated all electronic locks with the newest models from O.W.L. Securities LLC.”
“I don’t believe I have ever heard of O.W.L. Securities LLC,” David tells the snobbish salesman. “Where are they based out of?”
“O.W.L. Securities LLC is home based in Cork, Ireland,” he replies almost proud as his slight Irish accent shows through. “They specialize in all the latest surveillance technologies.” “Also the company has a history with identifying possible threats of the I.R.A.”
“What about outside access to these offices?” David questions, visibly surprising the salesman. “Do you allow any outside companies into this facility without clearance?” “Such as electricians, plumbers, or delivery services?”
“We employ our own staff of electricians and plumbers,” the salesman says almost defensively. “As for delivery service, we do have a private carrier who is completely bonded.”
“I’ll be the judge of that, what is the name of the delivery company?” David says, sounding demanding.
“Cross-town Delivery, they have been with us for ten years,” the salesman answers with confidence.
“I am afraid we will not be doing business then,” David says promptly upon hearing the name he already knew. “I have been interviewing with several security companies like yours around the city and Cross-town has been the courier service for those of them that were recently robbed.” “Thank you for your time now if you could show me out!”
As the two men ride down in the elevator David thinks over what he learned here. O.W.L. Securities LLC is a new wrinkle in this investigation. None of the other places that had been robbed would tell him anything about their security supplier. Perhaps O.W.L. Securities LLC is worth looking into next.
High over 132 St
New York, NY
Master Warrior spots the gang of men he has been searching for all over the city. Each of them is dressed in identical grey running suits with dark blue ski masks. They think they are getting away with three robberies in a week. Guess again! Then he remembers his dream as he spots the woman with the stroller several blocks away. He has to do things differently this time. Dropping down to a nearby rooftop Master Warrior leaves the bike and the tube he is to deliver to the roof. Leaping back into the sky he follows after the group of men from above.
Master Warrior swooping down to street level he knows he has to keep these men separated, off balance. Coming to land in front of the fleeing crooks. Just as in his dream the four men are all the same height and build making it hard to tell them apart. Crashing head long between the center two he grabs a hold on them throwing them down the street. Knowing of their energy based powers he had little fear of causing them much harm.
Veering up and back to the other two Master Warrior lands a kick across the jaw of one, sending him into the street. Then moving quickly he pins the remaining man with his gauntlet covered wrist by the throat to the brick wall. Pull off the man’s mask, Master Warrior is shocked by what he sees. The man has no face, only nostrils and two brown beady eyes that glare at him. “Who, What are you?” Master Warrior demands forcing his gauntlet up to touch the crook’s pale bare chin. There is a spark at contact and instantly the man is absorbed into his gauntlet, leaving only his clothing behind.
Master Warrior turns to see the woman with her baby in a stroller watching in shock and fear. A fear that must have overtaken the other three men who have fled. “Are you alright ma’am?” he asks the woman with the stroller.
“Yes, yes, but what happened to that man?” she stammers.
“That is a very good question,” he replies looking at his gauntlet where the swirling filigree pattern has become thicker. It would appear that he was made up of pure energy, Master Warrior surmises. Whatever the case the other three have vanished into the crowded mid-day street. The next time he meets up with them they will know he is a threat to them at least.
“Have a nice day,” Master Warrior says before leaping back up into the sky to retrieve the bike and tube he left on the rooftop.
The Essex House
160 Central Park S
New York City, NY
It has been a long day when Steve returns to the hotel room. He just wants a hot shower and to go to bed. Instead he finds David sitting on the floor, papers and photos spread out around him on the floor. “What’s up Bud?” he asks.
“I think I found the connection, you were right about Central Security Corp.,” David explains grabbing some of the papers from the floor next to him. “All of the places that were robbed use both Cross-town Delivery and O.W.L. Securities LLC.” “The connection is clear, I can’t figure out why the police haven’t made it already!”
“I think there is more than meets the eye at Cross-town,” Steve says, starting to get undressed. “Cynthia has no memory of growing up in Jersey; she thinks she is from Albany, New York.” “I believe that is where James DeMarco grew up.” “Everyone working at that place is a little off.” “I didn’t tell you earlier but when I met the other men, I got electrical shocks from them when I shook their hands.” “Same thing happened with Cynthia in her office,” Steve walks to the bathroom to start his shower.
“Do you think they are Zeni-humans?” David asks getting up from the floor to follow Steve to the door.
Steve is down to his underwear as he closes the door, “Maybe or maybe they are just under the control of one.”
“So what are we going to do about all of this?” David calls through the bathroom door.
“There is not much we can do, except play along until we figure out what is really going on,” Steve calls back over the sound of the running water.
Thursday, February 4, 1988
Cross-town Delivery
249 Elizabeth St
New York, NY
Arriving at his cover job with a new goal, Steve is informed that Dell was a no show today so he will have to make the other messenger’s usual deliveries. Dell’s disappearance is the final clue that Steve needed to convince him that the four men he is working with are the same ones from the street. Last night he thought it best not to discuss what happened with Master Warrior and the robbers but now it is all beginning to make sense to him. Whoever is behind these men created from energy is using this delivery company as a front to break into these security companies. That is what the real Cynthia Golden stumbled across and now she too has been replaced. The question now is are any of these people still alive?
There is a bonus to Dell’s absence, Steve gets to use his bike rather than the one Master Warrior has been carrying around the city. It will be good to actually do this job the way it was meant to be done, he thinks heading for the dispatcher. Steve’s first delivery of the day is a small legal sized tube to Open World Logistics. It is in Brooklyn and should prove to be an interesting ride.
As Steve prepares to leave he spots the other three carriers headed into DeMarco’s office. As he tries to see what is going on in the office, the three men stand at the front of DeMarco’s desk. Usually he is very good at eavesdropping, but the four men say nothing to each other. They simply stand staring at one another. Then DeMarco moves to close the blinds on the office windows making it clear they want privacy for their silent meditation. It appears clear to Steve that they communicate on a different level than speech.
19th Police Precinct
153 E 67th St
New York City, NY
David Rogers figures out what is really being stolen for the Security companies, and it is not a silver ring. He has been getting the run around for the past two hours at this precinct. It would appear that his New Jersey P.I. license does carry with it any credibility in New York City. Sitting in the reception area near the Desk Sergeant he has been watching everyone who approaches to gain access to help from the police. Each of them explains their concern to the desk manager, something he felt he shouldn’t do because it sounds rather odd.
Getting up from his seat David decides to take a different approach with the Desk Sergeant. “I’ve been waiting to be seen for two hours now,” he begins. “Perhaps it would help if I told you my case involves Zeni-humans and it is critical that I speak with someone soon!” “It is about the string of robberies at Private Security Companies in the city.”
“I thought you said it was about a corrupt delivery service?” the desk cop smirks. “Take a seat someone will be with you soon.”
Frustrated David turns back to the waiting room to see that his seat has been taken leaving him to wait standing. It is then that he makes eye contact with an Asian man behind the partition. He is dressed in a shirt and tie and displays an FBI badge on his belt that appears out of place in this police precinct. The FBI Agent looks to take an interest in what David has told the Desk Sergeant as he calls the man aside. They appear to have words and then the Sergeant returns to the desk to call out his name, “David Rogers, this must be your lucky day!” “Step to the door.” The Sergeant points to a security door down from the thick plate glass window the Sergeant sits behind.
David walks to the door where he is met by two officers that invite him into the small room on the other side. One of the officers tells him, “Case on the table and empty your pockets.”
“Excuse me?” David replies trying not to appear too aggressive.
“You can empty your pockets and submit to a body search or be turned out onto the street,” the other cop says. “Now empty your pockets on the table.” David reluctantly does as he is instructed, laying his briefcase down on the table that one of the cops quickly opens and begins to go through. David is glad carrying a gun is not his forte as he begins to empty his pockets onto the table. Then the other officer begins David’s pat down being a little rougher than he needs to be, trying to get a reaction out of the man. “All clear,” the cop patting David down announces. The other cop slides David’s briefcase to him with the papers sticking from the sides. The officer that has patted him down opens a door on the other side of the room.
David exits into the secure part of the precinct to be met by the FBI Agent he spotted from outside. “Special Agent Lei,” the man says, reaching out his hand to shake David’s. “I heard what you were saying to the Desk Sergeant and I must admit you used some words that got my attention.”
“David Rogers.” he says, taking the Agent’s hand. “I’ve been trying to choose my words wisely so as to not sound too crazy.”
“It really doesn’t matter with these dopes,” Agent Lei replies. “They really don’t want to hear about anything they don’t understand.” “If you wouldn’t mind coming up to my office we can discuss your problem.” Agent Lei leads David to an elevator at the other side of the room filled with desks for patrolmen to fill out their reports.
David is curious as to what the FBI Agent is doing here. “How is it that an FBI Agent has an office at a police precinct?” he asks.
“My partner, Detective Sgt. Prussia and I are a collaboration between the NYPD and the FBI chosen to investigate far different cases.”
“Like the Philadelphia Elite Squad?” David asks as they step into the elevator.
“Oh so you know about them too?” Agent Lei says pressing the button for the fifth floor. Lei leads David to an interview room where they enter moving to sit down across from one another at a table.
“This is not an office,” David acknowledges as he lays his briefcase on the table to sit down.
“No, my office is at City Hall, this was the only room available at the moment,” Agent Lei explains. “I’m curious to learn how much you know about Zeni-humans.”
“Not much, but I do know they exist in my city and yours,” David confesses. David opens his briefcase to bring out some of the files he has compiled. “This man James DeMarco runs delivery service downtown, he is the link between all of the recent Private Security robberies.” “He is using his employees to commit these crimes, possibly mind control,” David suggests not having all of the facts that Master Warrior does.
“How did you come by this information?” Agent Lei asks to take the photo and file from him.
“I’m a P.I. out of Camden, I was hired to find a missing girl, Cynthia Golden,” David explains. “She took a job at Cross-town Delivery several months back.” “Her father said she spoke of strange things going on at her job when she was home for the holidays.” “When she returned to New York she cut off contact with him.” “I have an associate working undercover at Cross-town and he reported to me that Cynthia is still working there but has no memory of her past.”
“So how did you connect all of this to these robberies?” Lei quizzes.
“I’ve linked DeMarco to some of the things stolen,” David explains pulling another file from his briefcase. “It took some searching but I learned from the box holders that all of them were collectors of ancient Spanish coins that were stolen from their boxes.” “Turns out DeMarco is a descendant of Spanish Conquistador.”
“That is an incredible story alright,” Agent Lei suggests handing back the files. “Would you mind if I take your research and follow up on it, see if I can find anything else through my channels?”
“No, of course not,” David says, taking the other files from his break case. “These are only copies.” “I’m staying at the Essex house, if you have any questions.” David gives the FBI Agent a reluctant smile. He has dealt with men like Lei before, they are not always as honest as they appear to be.
Open World Logistics
163 Randolph St
Brooklyn, NY
Making the delivery to Open World Logistics appears rather standard. As he approaches the reception desk carrying Dell’s bike on his shoulder a rather distinguished man in his fifties talks with the receptionist. Steve overhears the man standing there say, “Everything I know about that thing is in here.” The man passes a large envelope to the pretty dark haired receptionist. “Please be careful,” he advises without another word before turning to leave. Steve makes eye contact with the man not feeling anything out of the ordinary about him.
Stepping up closer to the desk, a name plate reads; Dee Moore. He reaches out the tube he carries to the pretty receptionist. When he turns his gaze back to her face it seems to shift and change. For a moment Steve feels like he has been drugged or something. Then just as the feeling comes over him it is gone. He greets the receptionist with a smile trying to ignore what has just happened to him even though it worries him slightly.
She seems familiar to him as she strikes up a conversation. “What happened to Dell?” Dee asks, eyeing the much better build messenger, who has barely broken a sweat riding across town.
“He took some time off,” Steve replies. Dee takes the tube from the messenger as usual, but with a smile that is not what she does with Dell.
She then hands him the outgoing package from under the counter. “Here’s one for you, have a nice day,” Dee smiles again at him. As he leaves Dee can’t help but to take a look at his butt in his tight bike pants. He is a great improvement over that slob Dell, she thinks.
As Steve walks out he reads the return address on the package, Central Security Corp.
163 Central Park S
New York City, NY
That is the place across the street from the Essex House, where his mother has the Security box with the silver ring hidden. Clearly something weird is going on here. The delivery address is a place in Mt. Vernon, NY. Ducking down an alley Steve opens the box. Inside are plans of Central Security’s alarm system and the time and date, February 6, 1988 at 11pm, that is Saturday the same night as the wedding. Clearly these are the plans to rob Central Security. It is then that he makes the connection between O.W.L. Securities LLC and Open World Logistics Closing up the box Steve thinks perhaps Master Warrior needs to make this special delivery himself.
Delta Sky Club
Terminal 4 Concourse B
Jamaica, NY 11430
Gary Rogers arrives two days before the wedding in New York City. Barely off the plane he seeks out the closest bar. He has arranged for his luggage to be delivered to his hotel giving him plenty of time for a few drinks. The Delta Sky Club bar is more than enough to satisfy that desire.
After two glasses of bourbon he spots a beautiful thin redhead at the end of the bar. She has been giving him the eye for the better part of his third bourbon. By his own rule he usually avoids redheads because of past bad experiences, but there is something different about this woman as he moves down the bar to sit next to her. “Hello beautiful,” He smiles at her as she orders another drink. “Are you here on business or pleasure?” he asks, trying not to sound like a jerk as he pushes his money at the bartender.
She just smiles back at him as the bartender brings his change. “Which would you prefer?” she asks him with a sly grin.
“The one where you don’t give me the business,” Gary chuckles. “It’s my first time in New York City and I would hate to get cleaned out in the Airport bar.”
“You certainly are a charmer, aren’t you?” she comments.
“Actually I’m a pretty big asshole,” Gary says ordering another bourbon. “I long to be a bad boy to attract the girls, but no matter how I try it comes out as asshole.”
“That sounds like a real problem for a good looking guy like you,” she replies, not seeming at all turned off by him. She can feel an irresistible energy coming off of him, nothing like she has felt before meeting him. “I think most likely you are too hard on yourself, part of your charm maybe?”
“Maybe,” he replies, sipping his drink. “So are you leaving town just arriving?”
“A little of both,” the redhead replies leaning closer to take in the smell of his cologne. “Perhaps you would like to send me off with a bang?”
“If that is an invitation, the answer is where can we go to do it?” Gary grins from ear to ear.
“I have just the place,” she says, finishing her drink and getting up her barstool. Taking his hand she leads the drunken man to the back of the bar to a handicapped restroom. Once inside his hands are all over her body before she can even get the door locked. She slides around in his arms to begin kissing him as she undoes his pants. “Wow, you are an eager asshole, aren’t you?” she jokes.
“YES!” he exclaims, lifting her short skirt to maneuver her to the sink. “Get up on the sink!”
“No, I want to be on top,” she contends, pushing him back toward the toilet with a surprising amount of strength. He sits on the toilet seat as she kisses him hard on the lips. Then moving to kiss his neck she rips open his shirt sending the buttons flying in all directions. Standing up she gives him a show as she unzips her dress to let it drop to the floor.
“YES!” Gary exclaims again as she steps forward to straddle his lap. Sitting on his thighs she begins to kiss him again. But this time Gary begins to feel something very wrong is happening. There is a spark between them and it is not a good one. It feels to Gary as if this woman is draining his strength.
Then he feels a rush of adrenaline that sends him into a panic. He stands up pushing her off of his lap to the tile floor. “Stop it, you bitch!” he shouts, stepping past her on the floor trying to pull up his pants. “What were you doing to me?” he shouts, stumbling to the sink to look at himself in the mirror. He has dark circles under his eyes that quickly fade. Gary turns to the door grabbing for the handle that comes off in his hand. Yanking open the door he staggers across the bar dizzy and confused.
Gary stumbles outside to look up into the sky at the sun. He spots Master Warrior flying northward, carrying of all things a bicycle strapped to his back. All sense of reality is lost at that moment as Gary is overcome by anger and fury. “You fucking asshole!” he shouts as Master Warrior quickly speeds from view.
Queens, New York
Master Warrior flies high over the New York skyline past LaGuardia Airport with Dell’s bike strapped to his back using his arsenal. New York City is much different than Philadelphia. It is larger, unfamiliar and harder to navigate from the air. Suddenly he feels a pain at the base of his skull that warns him to move. Swerving to the left he narrowly avoids a car as it sails past him from below. “Holy Shit!” he exclaims, giving pursuit. Master Warrior knows that a car hitting a crowded New York sidewalk from this height could kill people. Catching up to the flying car Master Warrior grabs hold of the back bumper. It is too heavy for his flight vest to stop, he can not control his flight anymore.
The weight of the car pulls him down toward the street. Knowing he has a better chance of catching the car from the ground he releases the car to push off the back bumper. Then zooming ahead of the falling car he puts himself between it and the ground. “Everyone out of the way!” he shouts, landing on the street in front of a Roy Rogers restaurant. The jaded New Yorkers are startled by his sudden appearance from the sky. Then the screams and panic begin as they look up to see the plummeting car.
Leaping back up toward the car Master Warrior collides with it three floors up from the street and it forces him back down. There is a load crash as the car hits the blacktop apparently crushing him under it.
The pedestrians begin to gather around the demolished car more curious than concerned for their own safety. The car begins to tremble and crunch as it is lifted from the broken pavement. Master Warrior stands up holding the car on his shoulders. He slides it down to the street as police cars arrive to block the street.
His muscles still throbbing, he knows that car did not take flight on its own. Leaping back into the air Master Warrior leaves the curious crowd and police behind. Tracing the path of the car back across the city he searches for the car’s launch point.
A modest residential home
115 Bruce Ave
Mt Vernon, NY
After finding the origin of the flying car Master Warrior searched for a sign of anything that could explain what happened. Find not one clue he continued on his trip to the address in Mt Vernon on the package.
Dropping down a few blocks away from the address on the package Master Warrior switches his clothing and rides the bike the rest of the way to the house. Taking the package from the bike rack he knocks on the door to get no answer. Then he moves to ring the bell getting a slight tinge of danger as his finger touches the metal pad. Steve can feel the electrical shock pass through his finger tip and into his body. It is not strong enough to cause him any real harm but he is getting the feeling it is meant to. He decides to collapse onto the front step. Clearly he has blown his cover now.
Steve lays on the step for a few minutes with his eyes closed waiting for a response of some kind. The response comes after a few minutes when he hears the door open and a man’s voice says, “What the hell are you doing here?” Even with his eyes closed Steve can recognize the voice as Zeke Rathbone, another one of the messengers from Cross-town. “Oh,” Zeke says as he steps over Steve to retrieve the package. After sitting the box inside the house, Zeke returns to drag Steve inside.
Steve discovers that playing dead isn’t as easy as he would have thought. Keeping his body limp as Zeke ties his wrist and ankles together is a challenge. He is left lying on the floor as Zeke goes to make a phone call. Steve concentrates on sounds of the tones from the phone recognizing the number as that of Cross-town delivery. He can even hear the voice of the man on the other end of the phone conversation, James DeMarco. “Roberts is here, he brought the package from Open World,” Zeke says into the phone.
“What are you talking about there is no way he could get there on that bike in an hour!” DeMarco replies.
“I don’t know how he did it, but he is here on the bike,” Zeke insists. “I got him with the doorbell, he is out cold!” “I tied him up for safe keeping.”
“Keep him there, stay with him,” DeMarco instructs. “I won’t be able to get there until after five.”
“Yes, sir,” Zeke replies, hanging up the phone. He turns to address Steve on the floor. “Looks like you are going to be joining the fold sooner than planned.”
“The Fold?” Steve says sitting up. “Is that what you call it?”
“What?” “How is it you are awake already?” Zeke asks Steve as he watches in surprise as the man pulls his legs apart to break the ropes that bind him.
“It would appear that ‘the fold’ is not connected on a mental level, is it,” “If it were you would not have to call DeMarco on the phone.” “I guess that means he will have no idea what happens next without you telling him.” Steve is to his feet, breaking the ropes on his wrists as the other man backs away.
“You don’t stand a chance against me!” Zeke says overconfidently.
“Really?” Steve says touching his ear to transform into Master Warrior. “I wonder if that is what the other one thought?” Almost instantly he has Zeke pinned to the wall. “If there is one thing I’ve learned about ‘the fold’ it is that you are made of energy.” Master Warrior touches his gauntlet to the man’s face and he is dissolved into the gold band, leaving behind only his clothing that falls to the floor. He looks to his gauntlets where the filigree pattern has thickened again. But this time it glows an odd color.
Master Warrior looks to the clock there are several hours until DeMarco shows up. He might as well have a look around to see what else he can find. The first level of the house seems perfectly normal, showing no signs of being anything the row home it appears to be from the outside. Heading up stairs is where he finds all the evidence he would need to connect DeMarco to the robberies. Heading down stairs again to the basement he makes the most disturbing discovery of all.
Laying on the floor in the corner of the basement he finds five shriveled up bodies, one of them female. Their faces are nearly unidentifiable, he can only assume that they are the missing bike messengers and Cynthia Golden. Stooping down to check the bodies that look like dried apple dolls he finds a very faint pulse in each. When he moves his gauntlet over one of the men it glows strangely brighter as if the energy is trying to escape. Then there is a second reaction from another of the bodies.
Standing back up over the bodies he glares at his gauntlets and then back at the bodies. Perhaps? he thinks. Raising his gauntlets up in front of him he touches them together lightly. The energy absorbed from the duplicate bike messengers is harmlessly released. The swirling bio-energy floats over the five shriveled bodies from a few seconds before splitting in half. Instantly the two masses of energy are drawn to separate bodies on the floor. Dell Herman and Zeke Rathbone’s bodies are quickly reinvigorated, like raisins being inflated back to grapes.
Both men remain unconscious on the floor as Master Warrior checks them again. He hates to admit it but this case has just gone beyond anything he and David can handle alone. Climbing back up the stairs from the basement to the living room Master Warrior uses the phone to make a call. “Paddy it’s me, I need your help with something,” Master Warrior says over the phone.