Infern was silent throughout the car ride. I was surprised, if grateful, for the fact that none of that nonsense that happens in movies seemed to be true. We were already a few blocks from the park before I realised that nobody had asked me to put on a blindfold, or sit in the trunk of the car. The Chauffeur had opened the door for me, and whilst he looked at me, he never looked into my eyes. Although I had very little experience with a Chauffeur (and, to be honest, I doubted I would. Paying somebody to perform a service I can do for myself has always seemed a little too snobbish) it was nice to experience. At least, for once.
The only real surprise was when we drove right past the Museum. I turned my head to watch it go past my window, and turned to Infern, a question, no doubt, on my face.
Infern just smiled and tapped his nose in that infuriating 'I have a secret' way that only spies in the movies, and the melodramatic, have. When we eventually pulled up in front of a building, I can't believe nobody had ever noticed it before, or, at least, visitors from the Museum making a connection between the two Heroes I had noticed and this building.
For one thing, it was a cathedral.
For another, it had a freaking huge stone version of the Emblem on it, covering both doors.
As
I got out of the car (unassisted, I'd like to point out, by the
driver) and moved to the doors, I shot another look at Infern. He
just chuckled. "Mr Tucker, people in Paragon City only see what
they wish to see."
"What's that supposed to mean?" I
thought about all I knew about Paragon City, and it's inhabitants.
"Do you mean that this church is magically protected, so that
people who aren't actively looking for it won't see it? Or maybe
that you have it protected so that it can only be seen by people you
wish it to see?"
Infern shook his head. "No, not at all. The
church is protected by something a lot more powerful than any magic.
History. Nobody in this place cares about history, unless it's the
history of Statesman, or any of the more recognised Superheroes."
He walked up to the door, and knocked on it.
"Religion is dead
in Paragon City. Everybody looks to Superheroes as their new Gods,
with Wicca, or Science as their tools upon the world. Nobody cares
about what this church holds behind these doors, and frankly, we like
it that way."
The doors opened, and Infern slipped inside. After
staring after him for a moment, I shrugged, and followed him.
The
cathedral was…much like any other. Wooden pews, stain glass
windows, an alter at the front. Infern waited for me by the
confessional booths, and waved me over.
"Whilst I realise you
are on a vacation, Mr Tucker, the time of the Brotherhood is somewhat
more limited than yours. Please, step this way."
Upon reaching
the booth, I tried to restrain a big grin. "Don't tell me…secret
passageways hidden in the confessionals?"
"What?" Infern
stared at me. "How on earth would people get out in a hurry? Don't
be ridiculous." And he pushed open a large door next to the
booth.
Oh.
Well, a guy can dream, can't he?
"Stop
thinking about make-believe, Mr Tucker." Infern said simply, as he
led me down a large, stone, spiralled staircase. "This isn't a
movie. This isn't some dime-store pulp novel, and it isn't a
computer game."
What?
Infern continued, "The Brotherhood of
the Truth Of The Flame is very much based in reality. We have a
mission, yes, and we do our work in secret. However, we don't rely
on secret codes to recognise one another, we don't believe in
assassinating people to hide our secrets, and we are not," Infern
paused in front of a large wooden door at the bottom of the stairs,
"We are not some science fiction TV show."
He threw open the
door, to reveal a basement, covered wall to wall in computer banks,
teleporters, and massive LCD screens.
I turned to look at Infern.
He shrugged, and went inside.
---
A few hours later, I was still reeling in shock at everything Infern had told me.
The
Brotherhood was a centuries old group, that assisted in every aspect
of life in Paragon City. It reached all the way to the mayors office,
and trickled down to the garbage men. It kept tabs on all the
Superheroes, but not, I was assured, for any nefarious purpose.
That's a direct quote from Infern, by the way. 'Nefarious
purpose'. Part shadow government, part NSA, and part sociological
experiment. They had, over due course, helped the Knights Templar,
the OSS, and now Superheroes, and had, through technological
advances, even sent out Superheroes themselves.
"Not
'Superheroes'," Infern had corrected me. "Field
Agents."
Apparently, though, the resources of the Brotherhood weren't all reaching. Only one Field Agent had gone out at any one time, and was replaced when the previous one died, or retired. Also apparently, the ratio of dead agents to retired ones was quite one sided. I only had one question. And no, it isn't the question you're all thinking of.
"What about
Frank?"
"Frank…" Infern sighed. "Frank was an
unfortunate accident. You must believe me, Mr Tucker, we had nothing
to do with Frank's demise."
"What about that giant knife
sticking into his chest?" I asked. "That certainly looked like
one of yours."
"The history of The Brotherhood tells that many
years ago, when Superheroes were first discovered to be real, and
living in Paragon City, some of us wanted to exterminate them,
instead of helping them. They broke away from the main, and formed a
splinter group. We don't know what they are called, or what their
beliefs are. We do know, however, that they want nothing less than
the total obliteration of any of the Super powered citizens in
Paragon." Infern sighed, and shook his head. "We do know a few
things, however. One, they operate to the same ways we do, in that
they always have only one field agent at any one time. If anything,
they have less money than we do. Secondly, they wish to sow mistrust
and confusion. And third, they have probably targeted you, as well as
Mr Edwards, as possible members of The Brotherhood."
"Me and
Sammy?" I stared. "We only just got here!"
"The
Brotherhood, although based in Paragon City, has members from
throughout the world. Plus, don't forget, the Splinter group has no
idea as to our resource issues. They see a wealthy young man, living
in a penthouse suite of an expensive hotel, meeting with the known
leader of The Brotherhood Of The Truth, and will draw assumptions
that you are a member. A highly placed one, at that."
"So…what
do I do?"
Infern studied me for a long moment. "I say we make
their belief a reality."
"What?"
Infern smiled. "You
told me last night that you wished to seek The Truth of The Flame.
Certainly, you uncovered part of our secrets when you saw the
costumes of The Protectorate and The Defender. I wish you to take up
the mantle, as it were, of their legacies. Become our newest Field
Agents; both you and Mr Edwards. Be the guardians of The
Truth."
Silence.
Me, a Field Agent for these
people?
Or, to ask another way, and certainly what Sammy would
say, 'Me, a secret agent, fighting crime alongside Superheroes?
Protecting them from whatever dangers lie ahead? Shit, motherfucker,
sign me fucking up for that shit!'
No matter what
Sammy may or may not say, I couldn't speak for him. Although, I
noted to myself, I had probably gotten the number of expletives
correct.
Regardless of what Sammy might want, the more I thought
about it, the more my answer would make sense in the long run. And, I
knew, without a shadow of a doubt, there was only one answer I could
possibly give in the face of this news, and I maintain, to this day,
that it was the right one.
"Take me home."