Fear The Unknown
Chapter Seven: Alignments
(Disclaimer: all characters are copyrights of DC Comics, a division of AOL- Time Warner. I don't own any of this stuff, sadly.)
(Author's Note: After demands from my few loyal fans, I'm kicking this story back into gear. I hope you enjoy, and the more you review, the more I write!)
Peter Langford once had a simple life. He was a man who knew his job and was actually good at it. He put bad men behind bars, it was as simple as that. That was what he'd wanted to do since he was a little boy. Now, though, Peter's life was not so simple, not so easy. For his entire life, he'd lived with the certainty that he was doing God's work. He was punishing sinners. He had been raised to believe, unequivocally, in the truth of the Word and in the justice of heaven. Those who defied God's word or sought to elevate themselves beyond the place that the almighty had ordained were evil men, and should be treated as such. Or so he'd thought.
As he walked into the District Attorney's office in Downtown Los Angeles, he couldn't shake the thoughts that had been plaguing him for weeks now. The thoughts that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something different out there. That maybe there were things that could not be explained by the scriptures, that just maybe there was something out there that he could not understand.
"Morning, Pete!" Si Templeton's voice snapped Peter out of his musings and back into the real world as his boss approached him. "So I talked with the boys in the Capital yesterday and they'd like to have a word or two with you." Si obviously saw the look of terror that washed over Peter's face at the mention of the authorities wanting to speak with him. He had heard stories about some people who had gone into the Inquisition offices and come back out. changed. Si put a hand around his shoulders to steady him. "Don't worry, m'boy, you're not in any trouble. It just seems that the stuff you talked about piqued their interest. They've already booked you a flight. You leave this afternoon."
Si let the hand fall away, and an only slightly less terrified Peter Langford moved toward his office.
"Oh Pete, one more thing." Si called out.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Did you ever get to the Queen file?"
"Not yet, why?"
"Nothing big, just drop it on my desk on your way out. I want to look at some things."
*******
METROPOLIS
"So, what's this all about, Hal?" Clark asked.
The three confederates stood together in the cramped office of a small, rundown warehouse on the outskirts of town, waiting for the supposed contact who wanted to meet with them.
"Not sure, actually. Eel called me up this morning and said we needed to be here at three to meet with someone he just called 'the rich boy'."
"The rich boy, huh? Think he'll spring for lunch?" Barry stood leaning against the far wall, examining the faded pictures of old crews that must have once worked whatever business the warehouse had serviced.
"Knock it off, Bar. This is serious stuff. According to Eel, this guy coordinates most of the underground activities in the country. Personally, I'm a bit worried."
Clark's eyebrow went up.
"Why's that?"
"This is too high profile for us. If this guy knows about us, who else does? I don't know about you, but I'm not sure about this whole setup. It smells like. well. a setup."
"I assure you, Mr. Jordan, I have no interest in seeing you dead. Or you, Mr. Kent, or you, Mr. Allen."
Somehow, without their noticing, someone had come through an unseen entrance to the room and that someone was now standing before them, wearing a nicely tailored suit and a black mask.
"I should tell you directly, it would be a waste of your time to try and discern my identity. My voice, as well as my face, is masked. The mask contains a thin lead sheet as well as a rather expensive oriental silk. I always did like yellow."
The tension in the room was palpable as their mystery man took a seat behind the office's battered desk.
"Now, to the business at hand. I have been observing you gentlemen for some time, as you have no doubt guessed. We all have something in common, you see. We all have a score to settle with the present administration."
"You're talking about The Inquisition." Clark said.
"I hate to spoil your illusions, Mr. Kent, but The Inquisition is hardly even the tip of the iceberg. Tell me, have any of you ever seen this man?"
A folder seemed to appear with the flick of his hand and he laid it open on the desk. Inside was a sheaf of papers and several photographs, all of one man. Each of them shook their heads.
"His name, at least as far as I can determine, is Dominic Bliss and he has been the power behind the government in this country for over three hundred years."
"That's impossible!"
"I assure you, Mr. Allen, it is most definitely possible. My agents have been able to discover very little about Bliss before 1680, but it appears that he presided over the earliest 'witchhunts' in Salem which, as you know, were the first step toward the policies enforced by our beloved government."
Clark put a hand up.
"So, let me just get this straight. You're trying to tell us that this man has been running around for three hundred years and that he is the reason that things are the way they are?"
"Mr. Kent, if you're going to insist on repeating everything I say, this will take considerably longer. Done? All right, then. Now, moving on to our second item. This man."
He produced another photograph and this time, they all knew the face.
"Subject MH741, as he is referred to. Origin unknown. Appeared in Los Angeles last week, and before that, had been spotted in Gotham, Central City, and yes, even Metropolis. He appears to have some limited teleportation ability and can shape shift as well. Initial analysis had him pegged as a possible member of the Martian race, but subsequent datum indicate that he is, or at least was, human. He was captured in Los Angeles last week, as I believe you knew, Mr. Kent, and is currently being held at a special detention facility in the Nevada desert."
"Why are you telling us all this? What do you want?"
"Come now, Mr. Kent. It should be obvious. I want you to get him out."
"And then what? We break into a government prison, break a prisoner out of holding, and just go back to our normal lives?"
"Of course not. You will also need to kill Dominic Bliss."
Chapter Seven: Alignments
(Disclaimer: all characters are copyrights of DC Comics, a division of AOL- Time Warner. I don't own any of this stuff, sadly.)
(Author's Note: After demands from my few loyal fans, I'm kicking this story back into gear. I hope you enjoy, and the more you review, the more I write!)
Peter Langford once had a simple life. He was a man who knew his job and was actually good at it. He put bad men behind bars, it was as simple as that. That was what he'd wanted to do since he was a little boy. Now, though, Peter's life was not so simple, not so easy. For his entire life, he'd lived with the certainty that he was doing God's work. He was punishing sinners. He had been raised to believe, unequivocally, in the truth of the Word and in the justice of heaven. Those who defied God's word or sought to elevate themselves beyond the place that the almighty had ordained were evil men, and should be treated as such. Or so he'd thought.
As he walked into the District Attorney's office in Downtown Los Angeles, he couldn't shake the thoughts that had been plaguing him for weeks now. The thoughts that perhaps, just perhaps, there was something different out there. That maybe there were things that could not be explained by the scriptures, that just maybe there was something out there that he could not understand.
"Morning, Pete!" Si Templeton's voice snapped Peter out of his musings and back into the real world as his boss approached him. "So I talked with the boys in the Capital yesterday and they'd like to have a word or two with you." Si obviously saw the look of terror that washed over Peter's face at the mention of the authorities wanting to speak with him. He had heard stories about some people who had gone into the Inquisition offices and come back out. changed. Si put a hand around his shoulders to steady him. "Don't worry, m'boy, you're not in any trouble. It just seems that the stuff you talked about piqued their interest. They've already booked you a flight. You leave this afternoon."
Si let the hand fall away, and an only slightly less terrified Peter Langford moved toward his office.
"Oh Pete, one more thing." Si called out.
"Yeah, boss?"
"Did you ever get to the Queen file?"
"Not yet, why?"
"Nothing big, just drop it on my desk on your way out. I want to look at some things."
*******
METROPOLIS
"So, what's this all about, Hal?" Clark asked.
The three confederates stood together in the cramped office of a small, rundown warehouse on the outskirts of town, waiting for the supposed contact who wanted to meet with them.
"Not sure, actually. Eel called me up this morning and said we needed to be here at three to meet with someone he just called 'the rich boy'."
"The rich boy, huh? Think he'll spring for lunch?" Barry stood leaning against the far wall, examining the faded pictures of old crews that must have once worked whatever business the warehouse had serviced.
"Knock it off, Bar. This is serious stuff. According to Eel, this guy coordinates most of the underground activities in the country. Personally, I'm a bit worried."
Clark's eyebrow went up.
"Why's that?"
"This is too high profile for us. If this guy knows about us, who else does? I don't know about you, but I'm not sure about this whole setup. It smells like. well. a setup."
"I assure you, Mr. Jordan, I have no interest in seeing you dead. Or you, Mr. Kent, or you, Mr. Allen."
Somehow, without their noticing, someone had come through an unseen entrance to the room and that someone was now standing before them, wearing a nicely tailored suit and a black mask.
"I should tell you directly, it would be a waste of your time to try and discern my identity. My voice, as well as my face, is masked. The mask contains a thin lead sheet as well as a rather expensive oriental silk. I always did like yellow."
The tension in the room was palpable as their mystery man took a seat behind the office's battered desk.
"Now, to the business at hand. I have been observing you gentlemen for some time, as you have no doubt guessed. We all have something in common, you see. We all have a score to settle with the present administration."
"You're talking about The Inquisition." Clark said.
"I hate to spoil your illusions, Mr. Kent, but The Inquisition is hardly even the tip of the iceberg. Tell me, have any of you ever seen this man?"
A folder seemed to appear with the flick of his hand and he laid it open on the desk. Inside was a sheaf of papers and several photographs, all of one man. Each of them shook their heads.
"His name, at least as far as I can determine, is Dominic Bliss and he has been the power behind the government in this country for over three hundred years."
"That's impossible!"
"I assure you, Mr. Allen, it is most definitely possible. My agents have been able to discover very little about Bliss before 1680, but it appears that he presided over the earliest 'witchhunts' in Salem which, as you know, were the first step toward the policies enforced by our beloved government."
Clark put a hand up.
"So, let me just get this straight. You're trying to tell us that this man has been running around for three hundred years and that he is the reason that things are the way they are?"
"Mr. Kent, if you're going to insist on repeating everything I say, this will take considerably longer. Done? All right, then. Now, moving on to our second item. This man."
He produced another photograph and this time, they all knew the face.
"Subject MH741, as he is referred to. Origin unknown. Appeared in Los Angeles last week, and before that, had been spotted in Gotham, Central City, and yes, even Metropolis. He appears to have some limited teleportation ability and can shape shift as well. Initial analysis had him pegged as a possible member of the Martian race, but subsequent datum indicate that he is, or at least was, human. He was captured in Los Angeles last week, as I believe you knew, Mr. Kent, and is currently being held at a special detention facility in the Nevada desert."
"Why are you telling us all this? What do you want?"
"Come now, Mr. Kent. It should be obvious. I want you to get him out."
"And then what? We break into a government prison, break a prisoner out of holding, and just go back to our normal lives?"
"Of course not. You will also need to kill Dominic Bliss."