The Spiralling
Chapter 17: Preparation for War
It took only a little more than an hour for me to realise that Mindy was gone for good, unless I beat the snot out of Demoness to find out where she was. The first location was a bank, and the other was somehow Safehouse B, one of the Macready bases stuffed to the roof with enough firepower to arma platoon of Big Daddies. Everything was fine at the bank- the staff manning the bank had been helpful in searching simply because they recognise me, and there was nothing at Safehouse B. Aldan was mistaken, he was no professor X, just one of us trying to do good.
We had to retreat to a hotel room rented out to Grandmaster. Without my dear sister it would not be possible to enter Marcus' residence without alerting the police, though I have to admit, our new base of operations was nice, with good facilities and a soft large bed that I can't sleep in. Yet.
Instinctively, I switched on the plasma T.V before either of us could start talking, "Shocking incident that left ten dead, including on Detective Gigante, a known hero for putting some of the most corrupt cops, such as Damon Macready and Andy Hinderland, behind bars. The gunman's identity is still unknown, but authorities suspect this to be the work of Tim Downing, one of New York's druglords affiliated with the D'Amico crime family." A video of the action taken from a CCTV was shown, but it was mostly darkness with screams, gun-flares and loud bangs.
"My daughter..." The Grandmaster uttered as if in a trance. The way I saw it, he was just missing Nevaeh, at least, from what I understood about him.
"Yep, I'd bet my entire Fantastic 4 collection that that's her." Who else could it be? Frank Castle? Max Payne? James Bond? What, Big Daddy or Hit-Girl? It was bound to be Demoness.
"I saw the silhouette of a young lady." The Grandmaster explained as he remained in his trance of grief. He has always been mystical to me, like the Elves in the Lord of the Rings series, or the island from Lost. He was that strange, "It was her; no other young lady would hold a large pistol in such a manner." Yep, he was able to pick it all up from a silhouette that no one in the wide world even noticed at all- it must have lasted only for a few frames. The force was with him.
"But why? Why would my Nevaeh slay the police? Is her soul so corrupted that she would do the devil's bidding?" Questions were starting to sprout as the Swordsman lamented about Demoness the way Shakespeare would. All I can say is, if Hit-Girl was doing the same thing, I'd be saying the same thing except not so Shakespeare-like. Funny thing is, I've already asked the same questions when my dear Mindy decides to become a schoolyard bully of all things.
"She's doing it for revenge, that's all I know." The answer was obvious, but I was still a fuck-up considering that I raised more questions than I solved. I wasn't even the one who discovered the half-albino's dirty little secret.
"Yes, she's been striking against outlaws and policemen alike..." My line was stoken, but professor Charles Xavier was back, and it was warming up into a Batman and Robin exchange.
"Well, small timers, then big fishes." I couldn't help but to feel excited at our progress, the way the next step was always before us. It was even better than Guitar Hero.
"Yes, but where will my daughter..." Another question was almost asked, but somehow, I already had the answer in my head. If only I was this smart during my year-end exams.
"The D'Amico family, or what's left of it. The empire's still large now thanks to Christopher." Was my model answer. Take a note. It's my best one yet.
"Agreed, but should you be wrong, we will still be ridding the world of decades-old scum." We knew then what to do, we knew all along. Like some gruff old veteran detective in a typical film noir movie, we had been tailing Demoness long enough, and we knew where she would strike next, "I will never forget how the same rot of this city had destroyed my family, torn it apart like a rabid dog."
"How about we rest for the day? I don't think it's a good idea to stay awake anymore..." I yawned halfway through my sentence, unintentionally making a point. This time around, Aldan wasn't very agreeable, but he did understand in the end. How are you going to fight New York City's worse supervillain when you're nearly KO from fatigue right from the beginning? "How about meeting after dinner? My dad's bringing in Pizza, I don't wanna miss that."
After toasting to our parting of ways, I left immediately for home, took a cab back to the suburbs. By the time I climbed through the window into my room it was five thirty-five in the morning, and before I knew what happened, everything became dark and mute.
Some time later...
By the time I woke up, my room was just white, plain white, like heaven. I rubbed my eyes- they were a little swollen and sore- they've had quite an overdrive at midnight. Slowly, I adjusted to the sudden change of brightness, and I saw, as blur my vision was without specs, someone at the window. Just a clichéd silhouette that I couldn't recognise. Someone tall and a little on the chubby side.
I wasn't sure who the hell it was, so I decided to try my Kick-Ass stealth mode. Slowly, I sat upright, my hands thrusting my upper body upwards, and I felt synthetic rubber, the same kind I wore on my outings. The same yellow gloves. It started crying as I squeezed my fingers slightly. So much for being subtle. Then, I realised my whole body was covered in the same material except for my face. I had forgotten all about my uniform before bedtime. As tragic as it sounds, I'm still stuck somewhere in the basic syllabus of being a superhero.
The silhouette turned around, and as my eyes adjusted better to the morning (was it morning? I couldn't tell) sun the guy before me became more familiar- curly grey and brown hair, security jacket, like I said, chubby. Kinda old. He was my dad.
"Holy shit!" I shouted. I was like a girl caught in bed with her newest hundredth boyfriend. I was caught in bed, in full costume including all the gadgets I carry around. There was no escape this time, it wasn't just some cheap merchandise my friends Marty and Todd bought from Atomic Comics Cafe for my birthday. Anyone could tell I was the real deal.
"Dave! You're awake!" My father exclaimed, excited for some reason. It was then I noticed- my mask was in his right hand. My own father had unmasked me, exposed my identity. I was overfed with comics and out came a remote idea that should've remained in the pages of my entertainment.
"Who's outside the room?" I was panicking, and I could see some shock in my father's face. Guilt? The feeling you get from being discovered? Misunderstanding? Thank goodness my insanity born from anxiety could only go so far because my third guess was the correct one.
"Dave! Relax! It's alright." My father tried to reason with me. It worked way before he said my name. I calmed down in record time, and this allowed him to explain himself, "Sit down... and we'll talk about this." He gestured to the mask as he said so. I did as I was told, and didn't know what to expect from the awkwardness. There was another of the million same uncomfortable pause for a while. The silence was more deafening than the rattling of a submachinegun right next to my ear- and believe me, I was there before.
Half the time I expect being yelled at for half the day, the other half, well, I was expecting the kind of warm pride you'd get from Uncle Ben. In the cracks between those two, I expect him to cry and tell me how disappointed he was at me for risking my neck when there was already a death in the family. It was one of the longest, most brain-crunching moment in the whole globe as I waited for my father to speak. I couldn't even bring myself to look him in the eyes; that's a great deal considering how I could do it effortlessly for like... Ever.
"Dave, I knew it was you all along." It wasn't how I expect the conversation would start. I was expecting it to go along the lines of, 'Why did you do it, Dave?' I was anticipating something bad, it was so much worse this way. My mouth became dry upon hearing those few words.
"What? Since when?" I managed to croak even when my mind was wiped blank from the revelation.
"You're my son, Dave. I could recognise you even when you're in a mask and sports suit. I knew it was you when the mob decided to put you on television. Kinda started suspecting when I found your room empty on one of those days when someone else decided to substitute me mid-shift." My father explained, and I remained zipped, "Those were the times- I wanted so much to tell you that I knew, that you should stop permanently-like, but..." There was a pause, and my father's face screwed slightly in concentration.
"It's your life, and you're helping people, making things exciting. Granted, you got hurt but... I'm proud of you, son." It was unpredictable, but at the very least, the encounter went my way. What else would any parents do when they discovered that their child was outside parading in a costume, carrying weapons, mixing with half-bad company, getting his ass kicked?
It was then that I knew, with an adult maturity that I never had, an adult maturity that I lacked to stop me from becoming Kick-Ass in the first place, that my father was the best in the world, and I was the luckiest high school dude in the whole globe, well, except for the times when I was really getting my ass kicked into different shapes and sizes.
Before I could say anything, my father took the lead as he always did in our conversations, "Come on, son. I've got just the thing to help you with those bruises and cuts you keep getting," and started up from the bed with an almost youthful vigour that he never really had, and went out of the room and down the stairs. I followed him- he reminded me of a normal-sized Filius Flitwick...
He lead me down to the basement where I worked on my new and improved suit, and where I salvaged most of my gadgets, so not the way Bruce Wayne would browse through his selections in his warehouse.
"So, dad, why're we down here?" As always, I was aloof and ignorant, though this time it was for the better, as it would have ruined the surprise. I could see him beaming at me enthusiastically like a boy during playtime even in the dark. Before long, the lights were flipped on, and in the middle of the normally desolate and dirty basement was a clean spot with a crate, and on top of the crate, a vest and helmet. My mouth was a perfect 'O' when I saw it. It was like Batman's ultimate and final bat suit in the middle of the movie. My original design was like Adam West's Halloween costume, and the current something I thought was even better than Batman's uniform because it's real.
"I bought it off the in-ter-net, those hard things. Took me a while how to learn to use the desktop computer in the lounge, but yep, I did it and modelled it out. Took me a few weeks to get it right." Before us stood a Kevlar vest, one of those strong enough to stand rifle shots, which was painted over in blue and yellow in patterns matching my synthetic rubber suit. The helmet looks like it might have been pillaged straight out of a S.W.A.T armoury, and it was the same blue as my uniform with yellow stripes at the side.
"Wow, dad, I didn't know you're this creative!" I praised in excitement as I paced around the two new hardware- they were wicked. It would put Kick-Ass in a permanent spotlight, and they would put Kick-Ass out of harm's way. The first impression I had was that I would become immortal in both ways. It would be useful in my final battle, or what I thought would be my final battle- it couldn't come at a better timing.