Las Vegas
6th May, 1994
Fighting superheroes is a unique experience, but one I have done many times. I have fought beings with strength and speed and flight, people who manipulate energy with their thoughts, and those who completely ignore science and channel the powers of the arcane.
And yet it isn’t the abilities themselves which are a superheroes greatest weapon. No, long ago I developed countermeasures for all my foes powers. Specialised restraints, holding cells made of unusual materials and energy fields set to specific wavelengths, and on paper I can fashion a device to stop virtually any foe.
But in the heat of battle, it is harder to focus. Especially when the young woman in front of you is moving inhumanly fast, graceful and light like a cat, and striking with the strength of twelve men. To be hit by a fist and thrown metres into the air, and to see your foe lift a car, those feelings cause a great confusion, as your brain attempts to make sense of their obvious disregard for the laws of physics.
That confusion, those precious few seconds where you can’t react, that is a hero’s greatest weapon.
And Saint was using that weapon to her maximum ability.
She was incredible, moving as fast and hitting as hard as her predecessor. The costume, white and gold with a fluttering cape, completely unchanged. She even had the same aura, which is how I tracked her down.
I had conferred with some of the Veil’s contacts, and from their eyewitness reports, I figured there was a very strong chance that she had the same powers, and most likely from the same mineral.
So I built a device that would track this mysterious mineral, by sending radio waves which would be reflected off that specific molecular structure, and set out in search of a Saint.
After two days of fruitless searches, I was ready to try a new approach when I got a reading. And as anyone knows, when two superpowered people who haven’t met before meet for the first time, a fight breaks out.
*****
The Oceanic, Las Vegas
The Veil leaned back in her chair, smiling. The pager she had given the Sovereign had gone off, indicating that he had found Saint, and was busy fighting her.
“Mr. Peterson, bring him in. And hurry, we’ve only got a limited window of time.”
For the past five months they had been tracking a new power in the underbelly of Las Vegas, and she was ready to meet this mysterious individual.
It had started with the disappearance of two police officers, later found bound and beaten in an alleyway. Then, during a territorial fight between the last two drug dealers in town, both of them lost their shipments, and were killed.
The thing that interested the Veil about these occurrences was that while the individual was breaking the law, he was only attacking law breakers. The two policemen where corrupt, and the shipments from the drug dealers had yet to show up on any street, as far as the Veil knew. And she knew all.
So she started digging, because either this was a very self-centred criminal, or an anti-hero fighting the fight in the dark alleys where the Saint dare not tread.
Three more incidents later, and Veil had an operation in place to track him. It has taken nearly five months, but now they had people following him around the clock, and could pick him up within an hour.
“And to think, that the Sovereign chose this exact moment to break out and pay me a visit” she muttered to herself.
But it wasn’t all good news. By now, word of Sovereign’s escape was everywhere; it was international news. Word of his escape had reached the government, military and major superhero teams within twenty minutes of his boarding the helicopter, but the public was made aware the next day. Since then, whispers had made their way down the grapevine to Veil, and it looked as if the New Patriots were going to perform sweeps of Las Vegas and Los Angeles, that the airports had tripled security and that the government was going to take his escape as a catalyst to move forward a controversial new program.
All of which suggested upheaval, and Veil wanted to ensure that she came out on top.
*****
Smack! A punch to my jaw, sending my senses haywire as I was thrown into the air. I land on my feet, and draw my death ray.
It was disappointing really, to be reduced to the most stereotypical weapon for an evil genius, but while my Sceptre was still only a pile of components, I had no other choice. It wasn’t hard to make, some household appliances, a spark plug and a heatsink, and it was easy to use.
Saint warily eyes off the weapon, but she needn’t worry.
While called a death ray, it was very rare to find one that could actually kill someone. Clarke-Mullens Law of Projected Energy stated that the focused ray would simply react with the oxygen surrounding organic matter, causing a simple thermodynamic reaction. So it really should be called heat ray, but I’m not stuck on formalities.
I fire, a glancing blow across her side. The ray knocks her off her feet, and she lands hard on her back. I run over, and pull a set of handcuffs out of my pocket. These handcuffs were connected to a small ion power source, and would inhibit her abilities and movement.
Clasping them onto her hands, I stand back. The micro-ion generator, roughly the size of a matchbox, sent a current of charged ions beneath her skin. As soon as it touched the mineral, she shook, and collapsed. Now, she would be powerless, the ions blocking whatever energy the mineral gave her tissue.
She is losing consciousness, so I lean over her and grin.
“Now that I have your attention, I think it’s time we talk. But no here, there is a few people looking for me, and I’d rather they not find me.”
I threw her over my shoulder and walked over to the helipad. Throwing her in the back, I nodded to the pilot that the Veil had leant me, and we flew somewhere we could have a quiet talk.
*****
The young man they dragged into her office was the last thing the Veil would have suspected. He was barely twenty, and dressed completely in black. Visibly dishelved, he was thrown to the ground by the two ex-military security agents with taser darts sticking out of his back.
“Was that really necessary?” the Veil asked, the quiet anger in her voice proof enough that their response had to be carefully chosen “This was to be a comfortable business meeting, not a show of force.”
The two security guards looked at each other, and back at her. The braver one spoke, but with his eyes averted.
“The kid didn’t want to come, Ma’am. He put up a fight, and probably put two of my men in the hospital. To bring him in conscious was hard enough; he takes more volts than a freaking horse.”
“Well I think you’ve done enough tonight. Return to your posts” The two men nodded, and left.
As soon as they were gone the young man on the ground stood upright and brushed off the darts, all traces of his injuries or weariness gone. His eyes changed colour, and he lunged forward, clearing the distance between himself and the Veil in a single bound.
But before his hands could even brush against her skin, a hand appeared from seemingly nowhere and grabbed him by the belt. And that one hand pulled him back and propelled him into the nearest wall.
“Very smart, playing dumb like that. I suppose you were curious as to who was after you, and decided to play along. Well, I am smart as well. And I’m never alone, especially when there is an unknown metahuman in the room.”
His eyes darted around for the bodyguard to no avail. The guard had hidden himself before the young man had even hit the wall.
Finally, he weighed up his options and decided to see what she wanted. “Alright lady, I’m impressed. Tell me what you want, I’ll see what we can do.”
The Veil smiled. “Lets start with introductions. You can call me the Veil.”
“Codenames? Really? Wow. Well, in that case call me… Sinner.”
“Sinner? Interesting.” She made a quick note on a piece of paper, and looked back at him “You wouldn’t happen to have any affiliation with the superhero known as the Saint, would you?” She noticed that he hadn’t stopped glancing around the room, trying to spot guards or weapons.
“Well aren’t you a genius. Maybe I do, maybe I don’t. Fact of the matter is you haven’t given me a reason to trust you at all. So how about we start with what the hell you think you’re doing, abducting me like this.” He leant forward, and his eyes changed colour again. They were now a deep maroon, with black clouds. Combining that with his black suit and maroon tie, he struck quite an image.
“Very well, I suppose a bit of explanation is in order. I am… well, you could call me a consultant. I collect information, and trade it. I don’t sell state secrets or anything, I simply keep track of major events and people, informing people when there is something I think they should know. As such, rumours of a new player in the underbelly of the city have reached my ears, and I decided to see who was stirring up trouble. And when my investigation lead to you, I had you brought in so I could see who you were, and where you stood.”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m the bad guy of this city now. With Balthazar gone, it’s up to me to cause mayhem and break the rules.”
“But you’re actions haven’t been very bad, ‘Sinner’. Balthazar would have committed more crimes in a day than you have in a month, and he wouldn’t have targeted criminals. That’s right” she said in response to the look on his face “I checked out each and every one of your ‘crimes’ that I’ve heard about, and you’re targets have all been criminals or corrupt. You’re not a criminal at all, are you. You’re trying to uphold the law, but aren’t afraid to break it to do so.”
Sinner leant back in his chair, and crossed his fingers “So what do you want?” The Veil suddenly noticed he had stopped visually searching the room, and wondered.
“I want to hire you. You obviously have skill in sneaking around, and you have some power inside you. With a bit of structure, you could become quite the asset to my organisation.
“In return, I would let you go about what you’re doing, even help you. I have files on nearly everyone in this city, and could give you targets that are a better catch than a few corrupt officers and a two-bit drug dealer.”
The Sinner looked as if he was seriously contemplating it, but smiled and shook his head.
“No, I think I’ll decline. I don’t like you, I don’t trust you and I really don’t take well to being abducted. You have been very lucky that I’m learning to hold my temper, or I would have probably hurt you by now. I may end up doing it anyway.”
He stood up, and stretched. His eyes went dark again, and he sprung forward. Unbeknownst to anyone though, he had been using his sixth sense for the past few minutes. He had picked up the psionic vibrations of four bodyguards behind false walls, and the woman herself, and as such knew exactly where the attack was coming from.
So when the bodyguard popped out to grab him again, he found a kick in the face instead. The second guard got struck by a fist and thrown into the third. As he reached for the fourth, however, he felt something else with his senses. Something further away, but much more urgent than the matter on hand.
His other was in danger, and he was compelled to go and protect. So he ran straight past the bodyguards, straight past The Veil, and leapt out the window.
Unfortunately the window didn’t lead outside, but straight into the casino.
He fell straight down onto a blackjack table. A fifty foot fall at least, and he walked away unharmed.
But the Sinner was changing. Thick, black smoke seemed to flow from his body, creating a haze around him. His eyes changed from maroon to glowing red, the only visible sight in the smoke.
People screamed and ran, security ushered them out and attempted to halt the now shadowy creature, but nothing deterred the young man from his goal: helping his other.
*****
I took Saint to a national supply warehouse outside of the hustle and bustle of midnight Las Vegas, a place where we could talk alone. During the trip, I sized her up. Heroes look very different when they are lying unconscious on the ground. While fighting she seemed to be everywhere at once, an unstoppable force of nature. Now, she looked like a young woman playing dress up, not all like a threat. But the fact that my jaw is still throbbing reminds me that she is much more dangerous then she appears.
I check the handcuffs, concerned. If I wasn’t in hiding, wasn’t forced to tinker in my hotel room with junk and appliances, then I could have built perfect inhibitor cuffs, using wavelengths of energy specially designed to cancel out an individual’s powers. Now, I had to cobble together an ion generator and simply short out her powers. It was dangerous, it was risky, and she could either fall unconscious or breakout of the cuffs at the drop of the hat.
At least I wasn’t resorting to drugs, like the idiots in the United States government.
Mere seconds later, she regained consciousness. In those minutes however, I had decided to see who she was. As soon as I took off her mask though, I knew without a doubt.
“Good evening, Miss Angelis.”
“Wait, how- I mean, what do you mean Angelis?” I nearly laughed then and there. For all her powers and fighting skills, she was still very inexperienced, and not at all convincing at hiding her identity.
“Child, relax. I knew the first Saint very well, and I can see without a doubt that you are Hector Angelis’ daughter.”
She brightened at the mention of her father’s name, than hesitated “If you are a friend of my father, why did you attack me? You don’t seem like a superhero”
“I’m not. And as for attacking you, well your father was the greatest superhero I have ever known and I wanted to make sure his legacy was taken up by someone worthy.”
“And am I?” From my experience in psychology, while I admit it isn’t my forte, I could clearly tell she was unsure.
I laughed inwardly. This was the best part of meeting heroes. Seeing them as paragons of justice and then realising that deep down they were just people. Most of them anyway.
I decided to maintain my aloofness. She obviously hadn’t recognised me as a supervillain, so I hold the advantage.
“Well, you fight very well. And I haven’t been in town long, but I have heard your name quite often, so you are clearly making an impression. I believe you will prove to be quite a good hero.”
She beamed, and then turned serious again “I still don’t know anything about you, except that you have somehow managed to turn off my powers and that you know exactly who I am. I’m beginning to think you aren’t a friend, but a villain of some sort.”
Okay, so she isn’t stupid.
“Very well Miss Angelis. I will come clean with you, if you tell me what happened to your father and how you took up his mantle
“I am not a superhero, as I said. I am technically a supervillain. Though I promise you, no harm will come to you.
“I meant every word I said about your father. Hector Angelis was the greatest superhero I have ever met, and gave me hope for your kind. Unlike most heroes, he actually cared about helping the public more than protecting them from monsters and criminals. It may not sound like a difference, but it is.
“Personally, I am not interested in what most villains are. I do not rob banks to make money; I rob them to take money, to hurt the bank owners. To break the status quo, and change the world.
“I fought many heroes in my career, and one day I ventured into Las Vegas, home of the Saint. I had learnt of Saint from a contact I have here, and assumed he was like the others. I couldn’t be more wrong.”
*****
It was 1974. I had recently come to a realisation: If I were to reach my goals, I could not do it alone. I had to form a team, a group of likeminded individuals.
I am not going to tell you my goal. You wouldn’t understand, or you wouldn’t believe me. It is something that most people say contradicts itself, including your father.
I owned the mining company Dingwall Mining Inc. Before you make another attempt to hide your father’s identity, yes, I know he worked for them. For me, in fact, but he never knew.
They were about to have a big breakthrough, finding some sort of vein of precious metals in the Nevada desert. I was never an expert in geology, but the reports sounded promising, so I allowed them to go ahead.
Then I heard of a Las Vegas casino owner attempting to buy out the company, take the metals for himself. I told my onsite representatives no deal. Next thing I know, I’m receiving a copy of a contract that authorises the sale of Dingwall Mining Inc.
Naturally, I was infuriated. The wealth that could be made from this project was essential to my plans, and for some reason my representatives had disobeyed me. So I decided to go to Las Vegas and ask them why.
Arriving in Las Vegas under the alias I use when managing Dingwall Inc. I travelled to the mining site, and was shocked. As soon as I arrived, the representatives ambushed me and tied me up.
Now I’m no stranger to mental manipulation. I could narrate to you the time I swapped around the minds of the members of the Homeland Heroes, or the few adventures I had with a psionic override helmet before it was destroyed. But I won’t.
So I could tell immediately that someone was using some sort of mind control on my employees, and would probably try to manipulate me into signing the contract.
They did not find an easy battle, that much I can assure you.
*****
The gentleman who was buying me out was named Balthazar. Of course, the name he used in day to day business was Bartholomew Wilson, but I’m sure you would recognise the other name first.
While he pretended to be a businessman and casino owner, he was much more. And for some reason he really wanted to own the vein of precious metal, and was willing to expose himself to gain it.
But as I pointed out previously, I would not simply submit. I escaped from the supply closet I was in, and decided to see what sort of metal could attract a metahuman’s attention.
You may be wondering how I found you. You have the same minerals under your skin as your father did, the same metal that was being mined in 1977. It has a specific molecular structure, one that resonates under certain vibrations. I built a scanner out of some portable mining equipment, and walked into the site.
Bartholomew Wilson arrived as I was walking into the shaft, and figured out what was happening. He decided that if I was to be lost in the shaft, he would have complete access to the mine. So, he made sure everyone stayed outside, and followed me in.
The miners in the shaft had not been subjected to his mind control, so I was safe for the moment. But as He entered the shaft, I heard a voice flowing through the mine.
“There is someone here who doesn’t belong here. You should find him, and catch him. If you don’t he will destroy the mine.”
Not a very convincing argument, I’m sure you’d agree, but every word was layered with psionic suggestion, making every worker in the mine want to capture me for this person.
But I have trained myself to resist mental manipulation, and as such focused on my goal. I found a vein of the mineral and scanned it. It wasn’t platinum, gold, or silver. Not even iron ore or bauxite. I could not even begin to describe it, in fact. It had such a high molecular frequency, it was a lot like radioactive materials, but not emitting energy.
Before I could do anything however, I was grabbed from behind. Two workers were holding me, and weren’t going to let go. I fought them off, and ran. I was wearing some defensive devices, but I was not willing to harm my own employee’s unless absolutely necessary.
But I didn’t have to. I ran right into Balthazar, and could immediately see what he was. He was not a scientist or even a metahuman, he was something arcane. His eyes glowed with ethereal light, and strange symbols surrounded him, like letters made from smoke.
Grinning, Bartholomew Wilson spoke “Good job. You came back to me before causing trouble. I am proud of you” he placed his hand on my shoulder, and I nearly succumbed to the magic behind his voice.
“How about you sign here?” he held out his hand, and the contract simply appeared in his hand.
“No” I responded, before flicking a switch on my watch, releasing a magnesium flare. I stood back, and drew a metal cigarette case from my pocket. I do not smoke, but I do carry a pocket chemical flamethrower when I feel threatened.
I flicked out the nozzle of the flamethrower, and sprayed this mystic with a short burst of fire.
Unfortunately, he was no mere mystic. The fire ate into his skin and clothes, but he banished it with a wave of his hand, and changed into his natural shape.
This is nearly thirty years ago, but I recall the sight of Balthazar as though we fought yesterday. He was six foot four, with chalk white skin and black eyes, claws and horns. He wore a robe made from blood red silk, and had a sword strapped to his side.
“Surprised?” he backhanded me, sending me across the room. He then summoned a small sphere of jet black energy, and threw it at me.
I was paralysed instantly, unable to move. Balthazar walked over to me, and knelt in front of me.
“Now you sign, then you die.”
Before he could do anything to me, a miner ran into him from behind. The man was not overly large or superhumanly strong, but he acted anyway, striking a creature from the lower levels of hell with a shovel to the head.
Balthazar spun, and fired crimson flames at the miner. The fire didn’t burn him, it simply picked him up and threw him into the wall. On contact with the mysterious mineral however, the fire exploded.
Freed from the paralysis, I noticed Balthazar get knocked unconscious and left him… It. I watched as the miner got thrown from one side of the tunnel to the other, with an impact that would have shattered bones. I grabbed him, and pressed a switch on the wall.
An alarm sounded, and everyone began evacuating the mine. I carried the miner who saved my life, and we exited the mine. The mind control from Balthazar was gone, and everyone seemed to be confused as to what was happening.
I made up a story, mentioned that Bartholomew was a smoker and may have caused an explosion in the mine, and that Dingwall Inc. would be investigating.
I ensured that this miner got medical care, fully paid for and top class. Two weeks later however, I received word that he was well enough to be dismissed, all bones and burns healed, and eyesight returned. The only problem was that he had miniscule fragments of an unknown mineral lodged under his skin.
Keeping an open file, I continued on with my usual activities. A few years later, I was receiving multiple reports of a new superhero in Las Vegas, and he was rising fast.
I have never been so confused. If I had ever believed in universal karma, that belief faded then. I had helped create a new superhero, a possible archenemy. But then I read the reports sent to me by my contacts. This hero was different.
He fought crime for sure, but he didn’t knock out the criminals, truss them up and leave. He stayed and cleaned up the mess the fight caused. I hear he once carried a car to a mechanic, several hundred metres, because the owner was a disabled man. He would take people to hospital, and stay with them. Volunteered at shelters and assisted the fire department. The Saint would never pass over a mugging to catch a radioactive supervillain, or ignore a cat stuck in a tree. He was the ultimate superhero, and strange as it sounds coming from me, a man I respected.
We fought once, and while I recognised him I don’t think he recognised me. And now he is gone, and you have the insurmountable job of taking on this identity, and living up to that name.
*****
“So my question to you is, do you think you can do it?” I asked as I removed the handcuffs.
“I’m going to try my hardest” she promised, rubbing her wrists. “But what about you? You are obviously a criminal, and if I could hazard a guess, I’d say you’re the Sovereign himself.”
“Very astute. Now that you know me, and I know you, I want to know about your father. How did he die?”
“Well as you know, Balthazar didn’t die in that mine, he fought my father for years. When I was eleven, my brother and I were at a carnival when -”
“-When our lives were changed forever” finished a voice, as smooth as silk. I spun, and saw someone seething with some sort of dark energy.
“Don’t worry little sister. Everything is going to be alright” he stated, before leaping straight at me.
