Chapter Twelve

My life was slipping away, and so was my world.

Emily Campbell was Corruptor. I had lain in bed with the woman who can crippled me, nearly killed me, and contemplated the two of us moving in together. The woman I had never been able to fully excise from my heart had tried to stop it beating all together.

"Surprise, lover." She still held her smirk. "How's your day been?"

I grunted, unable to find the strength to open my mouth any more.

"That bad?" She tilted her head downwards in mock sympathy. "Well, I'm willing to bet mine's been worse." She walked up to me, over me, and up to the 'throne' where Sammy's corpse was pinned. Yanking out the large blade, Sammy's body slithered down to the floor, his head narrowly missing me. Emily sat down on the throne primly, and smiled.

"Now, let's see. Today, I found out that there was a spy in my little organisation. Can't have spies, can we Jay?"

"Unggh."

"Yes, quite." Emily laughed gaily. "So, how to root out this little spy? Well, why not lead it back to it's source, to the person they were spying for, and kill them? So I did."

I gasped for air, trying not to cough up too much blood, and failing miserably.

"Sa…Sammy?"

"No, you idiot. My traitor was spying for Sammy. Still, I suppose when you mingle as much with the crowds as Sammy did, you're bound to meet someone who can help you out."

That didn't make sense. Sammy was hardly a spy master. I tried to wrap my brain around it…

"Let me make things clearer for you, Jay. Sammy found out that I was Corruptor. His little 'friend' Sarriss told him, and he simply had to let you know. So, he called you and asked you to come to Atlas Park by yourself…probably scared I might show up. And I did."

I groaned. Sammy got into that car…and Emily was nowhere around.

"You…car?"

"I was in the car, yes. Pointing a rather large gun at his head, too. Sammy played the good little boy, and he was rewarded for it."

I frowned. Reward was hardly the word I'd use.

I held out hope for one thing, though. Surely, someone from The Brotherhood had seen me enter. Any minute now, the doors would crash open, and The Mayor would lead her men and women in to defend me. It was the one thing that kept me going.

'I can't wait to see Doc Wilks again', I thought to myself. 'Although, he's gonna be pissed that I ruined his work on me.'

"I don't see why you have anything to smile at. This is the end for you."

I had to stall, to give The Brotherhood enough time to mount a defence, so I tried my hardest to strain out a conversational tone.

"How…you Corruptor? The party…"

"Ah, yes." Emily beamed. "I was rather proud of that. You see, these Forcefields are quite handy. They can make you seem larger, stronger, older…even change gender. So, when I have to be somewhere as myself, and as Corruptor, I let one of my men take the Forcefield." Her smile took on an ugly slant. "But, rest assured, Jason, that was me in the Cathedral. All part of the plan."

"What…plan?"

She clapped her hands together, and looked at the guards. "Leave us."

Although I couldn't turn to watch, I heard the guards marching out, and a door slam shut behind them. In the peace and quiet, Emily got off her throne, and knelt down next to me, stroking my face softly.

"Poor Jay. I'm sorry for all this, I really am. You were never meant to get involved in all this. I hated Infern for that. That's why I killed him."

"Tried…kill me…too."

She laughed gently. "No, Jay, I did my best to keep you alive. I could have killed you if I wanted to, but I didn't. I turned that flamethrower on you to cauterise your wounds, to keep you alive."

"Then why this?"

She sighed, and ruffled my hair. "I'm under orders. You've become too big a threat to my employer."

"Brotherhood?"

"Jay, when will you wake up and realise…there is no Brotherhood."

Susan Daniels got the e-mail, and deleted it as soon as she'd read it.

"Nobody cares about dead heroes my ass." She mumbled, grabbing her coat, and slipping out the door. On her way out, she was stopped by a gaggle of reporters coming in from their lunch break. "Hey, Daniels!" One of them chirped happily. "Did you get a tip that Statesman's having Lord Recluse's baby?"

"Yeah, or maybe that Aeronaut's going to marry War Witch?"

Susan glared at them all. In this city…a City of Heroes…why was reporting news on the heroes considered tacky, schlock writing? 'They are the news' she thought to herself, and counted to ten before pushing past her colleagues.

One of them called after her, "You going to the Guardian's funeral?"

"Damn straight I am." She shot back. "Why, you coming? Want to file a report on what the well dressed mourner is wearing this season?"

"No need to get testy!" her co-worker complained. "But don't expect many people there. Fire Guardian didn't do a thing for Paragon."

Susan mentally counted to 20 before the lift opened, and she turned to face her colleague, only to discover the group had moved on.

"He did more for Paragon than you ever will. Jackass."

The doors closed on her triumphant grin.

My head was reeling. No Brotherhood?

"You see," Emily continued, oblivious, "The plan was to find the head of The Tucker Foundation, and get his money. My employer has big plans for your cash, Jay."

I snorted. "World domination."

"To begin with, yes." Emily allowed, nodding slightly. "We set it up beautifully. Even planned the whole 'Corruptor' thing so that passers by would just consider it a robbery. But when I discovered it was you…" She frowned. "Well…I didn't want to kill you. Frank wasn't a problem, as Jenson dispatched him easily enough…"

"Wait….Infern killed Frank?"

"Yes, of course." She sighed irritably. "He was expendable, like you were supposed to be. But…I never stopped loving you. That's why I couldn't kill you then." She looked me in the eye. "That's why I can't kill you now."

She handed me a small device.

"This is an emergency teleporter. The one you have on your belt isn't working, I guess, otherwise you'd be back in Chiron by now. I want you to use it."

I was stunned. First she tries to kill me, then she makes love to me, then she tries to kill me again, now she wants to save my life?

Women.

"Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. I can hide. Hopefully, far enough away from Anson."

I spluttered. "Mike?"

"Yes. It was his idea all along."

I was stunned. Mike Anson had plotted to kill me, from the very beginning? A man I had slowly come to think of as, if not a friend, then certainly a trusted advisor?

Before Emily could say anything else, before I could hit the switch, the doors burst open behind me, and I heard a voice I recognised all too well.

"Campbell! What's the meaning of this?"

Emily stood up, and switched on her forcefield, her features blurring until they became Corruptors again.

"This has gone on long enough, Mike. It's over."

"Yes, it is."

I heard a roar of flames, and Emily screamed, just before everything vanished in a blur of pure, white light. And pain.

'The funeral', Susan noted, 'Is far from empty'.

No superheroes seemed to be in attendance, but the faint gold and red glimmers underneath clothing meant that she couldn't deny that maybe some were in attendance. However, what it lacked in heroes, it made up for in normal, everyday people, who had come to pay their last respects. Dozens of people stood in The Hollows, their heads hung low, not even caring about the possibility of Troll attack. The people had come to mourn.

Not for Fire Guardian, Hero of Paragon City.

But for Jason Tucker, a man who had tried, above all else, to do right.

As the casket was lowered into the ground, and people turned away, Susan noticed one old man, withered and pale, bent over a walking stick as he glared, otherwise un-noticed, at a man in an expensive looking suit. The old man seemed to sense Susan's gaze, because he turned and looked at her, and, for a split second, their eyes met, and the old man seemed to smile slightly, before nodding his head, and walking away.

Susan examined the man in a suit. Middle aged, but fairly strong looking, the man had the mark of a survivor about him, and was surrounded by other men, all in cheap looking suits. 'Bodyguards', Susan realised, almost before the man was upon her, his face one of sadness.

"Can I help you, Miss?"

"Oh. No, I'm just here to pay my respects. And…well…I'm a reporter with The Paragon Times, writing a story on Mr Tucker. Might I ask, did you know him?"

The man bowed his head slightly. "Mr Tucker and I were in business together. He was a great man."

Susan nodded. "Yes, he was. If you knew him so well, might I borrow a few minutes of your time, so I can give him a write-up deserving of his legacy?"

The man smiled slightly. "Yes. I'm sure Jason would have liked that. But only a few minutes, I have to get to City Hall, to file before the deadline."

"Deadline?" Susan wondered out loud, before realising what he meant.

"Yes, since the Mayor…passed away so suddenly, there's a seat to fill in City Hall. I'm going to run. With the full backing of The Tucker Foundation."

"Well, with all the money, I'm sure you'll do well, Mister…?"

"Anson. My name is Michael Anson."

Anson led Susan to his limo, to tell of his sad tale about his dearly missed departed friend, Jason Tucker, whom he would mourn forever.

The old man watched everything from atop a hill, his old frame belying his eyesight, which was, for a man his apparent age, extraordinary. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "Bastard", before turning his attention to a note.

It was handwritten on a scrap of paper that, judging by it's rumpled, and tear-sodden form, had seen better days. Whether the tears had come from the old man who read it, or the writer, is hard to say. Perhaps, dear reader, we shall find some comfort in believing it was both.

The old man read the note to himself, as he had done several times every day, and although he had it memorised by now, he couldn't part with the paper.

'I hope Doctor Wilks gives this note to you. If not, I won't be too impressed.

'I wish I could be there with you through your recovery, but things took a turn for the worst after I used the remote to send you to Chiron. I'm in hiding, now, with friends I trust. Please, don't try to find me. You won't. You'll never see me again, Jay, and that's how it has to be. I can never forgive myself for hurting you, and my penance for it will be to know you live, safe from attack, but never being able to contact you.

'I wanted to find out who the spy was so I could go underground, with you. Guess that won't happen now, huh? We're moving about a lot, and it'll be a long time before this woman trusts me. You, on the other hand, she's crazy about. I'm almost jealous.

I love you, Jay. I always have, and I always will.

Be well.

E'

"I love you too, Emily." The old man muttered. "And some day, I'll find you, no matter what you think."

I know what you're thinking.

It doesn't make sense, does it? I had a funeral, but I'm still alive. I said I never saw Emily again, and there she was, trying to kill me, not a day later.

The body in the casket was Sammy's. Anson…the bastard…fried Sammy so that his corpse was so badly burned, it was mistaken for mine. There was a report, apparently, of another body which was mistaken for Sammy's, but the idea of double identity mistakes just makes my head spin.

As for never seeing Emily again? I technically never did. See, I said I never saw 'Emily Campbell, the love of my life' again. The time I saw Emily next, she was Corruptor, and I was furious at her. My eyesight, such as it was after the fight with the guards, was so badly damaged anyway, I could barely see anything. Now it's better, she's gone. And before anyone starts splitting hairs, yes, to tell the truth, I lied. It's called dramatic licence. Get over it. I haven't seen her since the warehouse fire, and I don't know if I ever will.

Oh, I'm very much alive. I'm broke, but alive. Well, that also isn't technically true. I did put some money into a personal bank account when I won the lottery, so I could have some 'me' money. Not much, about 100 million or so. Somehow, I doubt I'll starve. However, I want it back. All my money. Not for reasons of greed, or ego. Mike stole what was most important to me. My identity. Now he's the general benefactor, the head of The Tucker Foundation, and he's using my name for evil. He has to be stopped. Since Jason Tucker is legally dead, The Fire Guardian is going to have to be incognito for a little while. I'll still fight, sure, but I'm staying on the sidelines until I can go after Mike. For now, though, I'm going to have to get comfortable in this damn disguise I had the tailor make up for me. It makes me hunch over, which is causing some serious back pains. I'll get over it, though. I'll endure. I have to.

Paragon City is, so I'm told, a City Of Heroes. However, there's an underside to it, and I don't mean the colourful muggers and attackers you meet on the streets. Although not as bad as The Rogue Isles is reputed to be, there's an evil that lurks here. It isn't an evil you can see in the faces of men, but in their hearts. Bad men thrive in Paragon, if they pretend their intentions are just, and they have honour in mind.

It's those men I hunt. It's the corrupt, bitter souls of the wicked that I make my prey. Their streets are my playground, and their homes are my own.

I'm The Fire Guardian. I make the evil burn.