Damien laughed. "Do I? Yes. However, I'm not going to it- not yet. We'll do better just running instead. At most, a hideout will last a week under a heavy search- I want that to be my last week in Urbis. I just wanna lie low for a bit, let things blow over. I also promised that kid with a guitar I'd meet him somewhere." He looked up and saw a CCTV camera. He crushed it. "I hate these damn cameras everywhere." He sighed. "One of the many problems with modern life." He shook his head. "Anyway, I'm not gonna say where. You can follow me if you want- I just am paranoid of the Company."
And there goes the bounty, leaping over cars without even thinking about it, with the man in the business suit following a short distance behind. Damn. Of course, it was never that easy, but Christian had hoped that just this once he might get lucky and nab his man without the usual drawn-out stalking, chase, and possible shootout. But no, looks like things were going to be messy again.
Christian moved again, shoving through the crowd with his elbows, and made it to the edge just in time to realize he had no idea where Lier had gone. The mob still boiled around the wrecked cars, but the source of its hate had vanished, and sirens in the distance were beginning to remind people that they had other places to be.
Lier was gone, and with him three-hundred million dollars in bounty money, enough to set Christian up for the rest of his life. Forget the damn mugger he'd been after before. The man wasn't important anymore. This job, now, this one could be the big one.
Finding Lier again, though, that was going to be tricky. To have survived this long on the run the man must be good at vanishing, especially if he pulls stunts like the one just now on a regular basis. Christian needed to know more, of everything. Where would a hunted, semi-famous super like Lier hide?
Nearby, the super's fan was still gasping on the ground, knocked flat by Damian's gentle touch. The kid had known a lot about Damian Lier, enough to recognize him on sight and start babbling about past accomplishments. Poor guy, getting shrugged off by his hero like that.
Gears began to turn in Christian's mind.
"Hey kid," said Christian to Dyme Allesandros, squatting down beside the teenager, "you need a hand?"
Dyme lay face-down on the ground, breathing heavily. He wasn't sure he liked Damien Lier any more. I mean, what kind of person goes and kicks someone for no reason? Yeah, it added to his "cold, agressive badass" image, which was what Dyme had initially fallen in love with about him, but honestly, it was a lot less fun when you were the one on the recieving end of it. Maybe Dyme wouldn't go to Byrant Park after all, just in case Damien decided to kick him again. "Hey kid, you need a hand?"
Dyme lifted himself up on his elbows and turned to the man who was talking to him. "That would be lovely, thank you." What a nice gentleman. Going out of his way to help a person, for no gain of his own; why couldn't everyone be like that? Heck, meeting Damien Lier had turned out to be a massive disappointment, but maybe this excursion hadn't been a complete waste of time; after all, it looked like Dyme had found a friend.
The crowd were still angry, but as the focus of their anger make good escape, the riot dissolves inot a vague irritation, and eventually boredom. As people wander off, the streets quieten...
Matt pushed his way through the dispersing crowd, not wanting to leave just yet. He wanted to know more about the super who had so openly displayed his powers. He could have sworn he recognised him from somewhere, but couldn't put his finger on where. Matt approached the two men standing near the crash. Speaking to them, he said, "It's probably not a good idea to hang around here. Once word gets out a super was involved here, the Company's going to start poking around for witnesses, and you don't want their attention on you, whether you're a super or not."
Christian pulled the guitar kid to his feet without a hint of effort. "There you go," he said, looking at the wreck. "Hell of a thing, eh? Man tries to save a few people and almost gets a riot for his trouble."
The businessman who'd run off with Lier had been in the wrecked car, if Christian recalled correctly. The crowd had been shouting at him, too, throwing bricks and insults with equal fervor. Judging by the, ah, explosive reaction from the suited man, he was a super too. One who was on the run, now, because if Christian could figure out who he was so could anyone else. Wouldn't be that hard, considering the huge clue that the man had left behind.
Christian glanced at the wrecked car's license plate, memorizing the number. A quick call and a small bribe to the DMV should get him the owner of that machine. If he could find the businessman, he might also find the man who he'd been following. It was worth a shot, anyway. Something to consider if this current line of inquiry didn't pan out.
He turned back to the kid and was about to speak again when he was interrupted.
"It's probably not a good idea to hang around here," said a nearby man in a gray blazer. "Once word gets out a super was involved here, the Company's going to start poking around for witnesses, and you don't want their attention on you, whether you're a super or not."
"Okay," said Christian, nodding. "Thanks. Someone's probably called 911 already, right? Let's let them deal with the police."
As James and Damien walked, without turning his head he said "I should inform my advisors at the company of this, if someone finds out that it was me who did that things will get out, I have full control of all the advisors, I will make them believe that people are trying to spread lies,"
He popped out his phone and sent an encrypted text to his head advisor back at the office then hastily slipped it back into his breast pocket.
"So, are we going to meet that kid then? when did you say you would meet him again?" he asked Damien quietly.
Damien smiled wanly. "I didn't. But if that kid knows half of what he claims he does about me, he knows I meant 5 seconds after the crowd dispersed and there's no chance of being caught by the mob." Damien listened, but instead of noise, he listened for silence, and heard it. "And I believe that would be right about now. Let's go. I just hope he didn't misinterpret me hitting him." Damien shrugged. As they were walking to the park, Damien stopped and turned to James. "I'm the most paranoid person on earth for this, but I want you to hide within earshot of my location. If anyone comes with the kid, listen for me to say, 'you don't know anything about me, do you?' When you hear that, open a hole in the ground underneath all of us and get ready to back me up, alright?"
Damien arrived at Bryant Park, his head facing the ground, shoulders hunched. If he had a collar right now, he'd turn it up as he sat down on the bench in his least favorite part of the park. No-one played here, so it was the perfect place to meet another super. They'd be doing the city a favor to destroy some of this- it was almost a garbage dump, with no life and no soul. "So, kid, you gonna show up or what?" He muttered to himself.
James waited for about a minute outside the park to let Damien sit, then skulked over and sat down behind a large bush tat was behind the bench. He sat, deathly quiet, listening out for Damien or the kid. After a few minutes of silence he poked his head out, they were still alone, he then whispered to Damien "If he does bring someone and fighting doesn't work, I have a plan, just go with it if it comes down to it." he then ducked back down behind the bush as he saw the faint outline of someone walking down the path towards them.
The lonely black runway sat like a long, burnt strip of bacon smack dab in the center of a vast sandy plain of super-heated nothingness ten miles outside Urbis city limits. Heat waves from the scorching midday sun soaked and rippled in lazy waves off of the tarmac, the cooked remains of some desert reptile laying dismally a few inches from where the pavement met the sand. Nearby sat a drearily clean-looking control tower, its windows appearing blank and uninterested. Off in the distance the skyline of the city could be made out, bleary and blue through the desert's afternoon haze.
An almost silent rushing noise began to grow in the air as a Gulfstream G750 business jet drifted ever so slowly down out of the sky, drawing closer and closer to the oven-like tarmac. The sound of its engines slowly grew to a dull and distant roar as it sluggishly descended, determined not to disrupt the silence. The aircraft finally slowed to a reluctant halt and the engines gradually died down. Then it sat there, simmering. Presently the door opened, like the lid of chilled sardine can being cracked off. The contrast between the comfortable coolness within and the boiling heat without was almost visible.
Out from the luxury airplane's interior stepped a middle-aged man with wild blonde hair and a full beard, wearing a fine white suit and carrying a lavish cane that appeared to be made of ivory. Slipping on an expensive-looking pair of aviator sunglasses, he took a moment to survey the scene around him and stare up at the burning desert sun. Then he laughed and took the arm of a beautiful young woman in a red dress who stood near him. Together they floated down the stairs and across the tarmac towards a waiting limousine, followed by several other rich couples.
The ten minute ride from Les Ford Private Airport to Urbis was a pleasant one. Champaign and conversation flowed freely between the care-free passengers. The endless motif of sandy blankness passed by with little remark; it was not until Urbis' Uptown suddenly and abruptly arose out of the desert's dreary floor that they began to actually notice the sights arrayed outside their windows. Expensive silk rode teasingly high on seductive legs as the women twisted about on their leather seats, pointing at the sights and laughing with one other. The man with the cane laughed along with them and took in the city sights with a veiling smile.
The limousine finally came to a stop in front of a large and grandiose hotel ringed with swimming pools and rows of waving palms. The entourage stepped lightly through the establishment's big glass doors, laughing and talking cheerily amongst themselves. Their luggage was taken to their rooms, and they themselves hit the casinos.
The night was passed in a blur of flashy lights, expensive drinks, and beautiful women, all with which the man with the cane showed reasonable interest. The unrest in other parts of the city was only hinted at here among the five star celebrations, mentioned in passing like the troubles of some overseas war; yet his ears were turned to them, and he secretly soaked up every word. As the night grew late he took seemingly reluctant leave of his companions, downing one final drink as they cheered him goodnight. He waved amiably and turned away, and walked back to his room.
The moment the door was closed behind him he swiveled around and locked it, then turned his now wary eyes on the room about him, scanning every nook and corner with a steely gaze. Whipping out his cellphone the man hurriedly scrolled through several messages as he strode across the suite to the big glass windows. He stared suspiciously for a few moments at the sweeping vista of city lights far below him, then drew all of the curtains closed.
- - -
"He's certainly made a show of himself."
It was the morning after the arrival of 'Richard King' the entrepreneur, as the hotel staff and his high-class companions knew Saul Fort. He and Ramses were sitting on the sunlit veranda of Saul's hotel room, the shining crystalline towers of Urbis surrounding them and the sounds of the city echoing distantly off the walls of glass from far below. Saul's eyes were glued to the wanted poster in his hands; he studied it intensely even though he had seen it a dozen times before. He grunted in reply to Ramses' comment, then turned his thoughtful gaze on the city.
"It will makes things easier for us." Ramses said slowly, examining his friend. "Would you prefer he had disappeared for good?"
Saul set down the poster next to his untouched martini and rose to his feet. "There's no such thing as disappearing for good." Leaning his elbows on the railing he surveyed the metropolitan streets from above with a scrutinizing glare. "But he hasn't been careful enough. I thought he might be more resourceful."
"He is resourceful, Saul. He's just cocky too. The kid can't keep himself down."
Saul shot Ramses an annoyed glance, and the big man grinned in return, folding his fingers on his lap. For a while neither of them spoke. Ramses sipped his drink and enjoyed the luxury view. Saul continued examining the city that buzzed far below their balcony. The morning's conversation still weighed heavy on his mind.
Presently there came a knock at the suite door. Saul flinched slightly and turned a steel gaze into the apartment, remaining where he stood by the railing. Ramses cleared his throat and heaved his great bulk up off of the comfortable lawn chair and slipped inside. Moments later he returned, followed by Raleigh.
"Delivery!" The medic smiled and handed Saul his rightful cane; the old slightly bent one with electrical tape around the handle. Saul received it with a sigh of relief, holding it firmly and adjusting it against the ground to make sure it felt the same. Finally he seemed satisfied, and looked back up at Raleigh with a glint in his eye.
"You're late."
"Mhmm." The medic replied, noting that the cane and arm attached had resumed their old habit of tapping the ground systematically every few seconds. "I didn't expect your call for another hour. You told me 'Mr. King' would be meeting with the hotel owner right now for some business talk."
"I couldn't. Nobody could, actually. Apparently one of his friends, or business partners or something, was involved with some accident downtown this morning. He was 'unavailable'."
"I see. Well, speaking of which, I think we have another lead. A pretty good one, too. For all the little bastard's secrecy he can't help but leave a glowing neon sign on the grid every now and then." Raleigh grinned. Ramses laughed and slapped Saul on the back, then swallowed the rest of his drink and followed the medic inside. Saul nodded slowly to himself, the hint of a smile working its way onto his anxious face. After one last warning stare at the city he hurried inside and followed the other two out of the suite.
Viola! So it begins. But please don't try to interact with Saul yet, at least not directly, as I won't have the time to respond in due order
Pulling up to the rather grand looking library, Nathan slowly stepped out and nodded with a friendly smile to the various citizens giving him odd looks as he got out of the police car and headed inside the over sized oak doors.
Nathan was pleasantly surprised to see the library was full of various people all hustling about, taking out books or browsing the shelves for some light reading. He had never really trusted computers and found that getting knowledge first hand was always much more valuable than typing a few words in on a keyboard.
"Can I help you?"
A polished looking young man wearing a name tag that read 'Adam - Librarian' had stepped from behind his desk and approached Nathan, an eager smile on his face. Smiling back, Nathan removed his glasses and replied
"Actually yes. I'm looking for a newspaper article from a few years back, and was wondering if you have such an archive?"
Adam chuckled and motioned for Nathan to follow him. Heading across the room, Adam led Nathan to a set of computer terminals and after typing in a few commands on screen, a search menu appeared.
"Alrighty then! Just enter the date or whatever keywords you want and if this article has been printed in any major papers across the country, it should appear"
Sitting down at the terminal, Nathan thanked Adam, who nodded and headed back to his posting at the front of the library. Looking at the blinking icon for a few moments, Nathan slowly typed in a very specific word
"All right," said Christian, "let's move. Come on, the police are coming from...that direction, so it'd be best to start walking the other way, yeah?" He took a few steps in the indicated direction and looked back over his shoulder. "You want to be here when the police show up? I don't know about you, but I'd like to be well away from here when they arrive. Not all of us can escape by jumping over cars like, uh...whatshisname there. The guy."
He frowned, trying his utmost not to show how calculated the expression was. "Say, you looked like you knew who he was," he said to Dyme. "Help me out here. What was his name again?"
Dyme scurried to keep pace with the taller man. "The guy who kicked me? That's Damien Lier. He's, uh... well, I dunno; he doesn't seem very nice, but I think he's alright. He was involved in that incident a while back, you know? That thing with that city and all those people? Somebody wrote about the whole thing online, and I'm into that sort of thing, so..." Dyme rubbed his head, then remembered what he was supposed to be doing. "Oh, yeah! He told me to meet him somewhere, so I think this is probably where we part ways... Thanks for helping me. Maybe we'll meet again some time." Dyme turned aboutface, then heard a siren coming from the direction he was facing and turned back again. "You know what, I might walk with you for a bit. We could get to know each other a bit better. Oh, do you have a phone number?" Dyme fished a cheap pen out of his pocket and primed it over his arm, ready to write.
"Right," Christian nodded gravely. "Gen City. I heard about that. Crazy thing, eh? Oh, right, my number."
It took him a moment to remember which cell phone he had in his pocket. Switching them up occasionally tended to throw off anyone trying to track his calls. "You're just going to write it on your arm? Okay, then..."
It was an easy number, New York area code, simple to remember. When he'd made sure Dyme had gotten it written correctly he added, "I'm Christian, by the way. Nice to meet you, though the circumstances are a little frantic."
He paused for a moment, before saying cautiously, "Lier told you to meet him somewhere? You sure that's wise? I mean, yeah, he saved those people, but, you know, he did kick you."
"Well..." Dyme rubbed his head. "It wouldn't really be polite to just leave him, would it? I mean, I... well, I didn't tell him I'd be there, as such, but I didn't tell him I wouldn't, either, so he's probably waiting for me... Oh, I'm Dyme, by the way. Dyme Allesandros." Dyme grabbed Christian's hand and shook it. "So, he said to meet him in... uh... something Park... I dunno, he mumbled." Dyme rubbed his head again. "I get that this is a lot to ask, but... could you give me a lift? I really have no idea where I'm meant to be going, and if I leave him waiting any longer he might get angry..."
"Ah..." Holy shit, but this was a stroke of luck. The kid was going to lead him straight to Lier. This was how you got things done, he thought. Screw technology and fancy gadgets. Just talking to people was better than any tracking device money could buy.
Careful now, Christian. Don't get too cocky just yet.
"Sure," he said. "No problem. I parked around here somewhere...ah, damn, traffic's still backed up...what park did you say you needed to get to?" He kept a wary eye on the flow of cars for a moment, looking for a precise moment to dodge through traffic to the other side of the street.
"Uh... "B-something"... hold on..." Dyme thought back to what Damien had said when they'd met. "Byrant Park, I think. Something like that." He spun around, then pointed off down an alley. "He ran off that way, so it's probably over there somewhere. Do you know it?"
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