Chapter 2: Alas, a Lass
Hours earlier, around sunset in Oshkosh, productive Pete Petruski plies his pernicious trade as the Trapster. In the crisp autumnal air, he casts a cloud of deleterious droplets that drizzle County Road 6 outside of Hackensack—Minnesota. The wee gluey globs glaze the byway like brumal glare ice. But, this precip will have the opposite effect. It should stop a speeding pickup abruptly and harshly.
The Paste-Gun hose sways side-to-side in the brush beside the county highway. Half-concealed, Trapster hides himself in tall weeds while working. He awaits an academic arriving home for the evening from a college seventy klicks yon. As Sol sets, a bad sort steadies his anticipatory nerves. Like a stalker, he has studied the scholar's schedule and patterns. Like a proud professional, Trapster has prepared to do what he prominently does: acquire a person. Supposedly pathetic, Paste-Pot Pete has owned Spider-Man in battle and exacerbated Thing in the same. He has abducted Invisible Woman and Mr. Fantastic on separate occasions and likewise kidnapped actress Karen Page (see Ghost Rider #13), Inhuman Medusa (see Fantastic Four #36), and artist Alicia Masters. He has outwitted Baron Zemo (see Avengers #6), overcome Prince Namor (see Amazing Spider-Man #215), and enthralled Empress Thundra (see Fantastic Four #176). He has entrapped Daredevil (see Daredevil #35), ensnared Black Panther (see Fantastic Four #548), and entangled Hawkeye (see Avengers: Solo #2). He has executed mobster Joey Z (see Spider-Man #88), gravely injured Deadpool (see Deadpool v.4 #55), and nigh ended Whirlwind (see Daughters of the Dragon #3). He has occasionally almost bested She-Hulk and often extinguished Human Torch. He has stolen from Annihilus and escaped to brag of his exploits (see Fantastic Four v.3 #43-44). Trapster is excited to work once again.
Along the rural route, a ways from Trapster, Prof. Glorianna O'Breen drives her pickup at a good pace. The radio offers relaxing acoustic Rick Jones. Which is good. The manila envelope beside her on the seat makes her a little anxious. Aunt Debbie, contacting Glori after a long estrangement, has indicated that the contents are quite explosive.
However, Ms. O'Breen is far from unfamiliar with stress. Her father Fergus was entrenched in IRA activities while she grew-up in Ireland, and he was concerned enough about her safety to send his young adult daughter away to the United States (see Daredevil #205). Trouble followed her, however, in the form of her father's sadistic murderer Gael. Paddy O'Hanlon, a.k.a. Gael, has been the galling bane of O'Breen's existence on occasion after occasion, and saintly swashbuckler Daredevil has had to swing-in to save her several times. The sinister Kingpin and savage Micah Synn were also persistent threats during her time in New York City. On occasion, other menaces almost got her too such as Nuke (see Daredevil #232-233), the Cossack (see Daredevil #217), a Mr. Fear wannabe (see Daredevil #222), or even just the city's street thugs.
One foe that Glori never had though was Victor Krueller. Or, cruller, like the donut. Whatever his stupid, f****** name was. Marvel Comics created a character in Daredevil #338-342 with major and amateurish continuity problems. Aptly, the account's author was Alan Smithee, a pseudonym common for artists producing work of which they are embarrassed. In the story, Glori supposedly entered the U.S. years before she actually could have and met many other parties participating in activities that they couldn't have either. Then, in issue #340 of this dreck, Glori dies for cheap dramatic effect. That event never happened, Marvel hacks.
What should be canon is the following. Gael came to get her once again. He slipped Ryker's as supervillains frequently do. However, the grapevine, in the form of ex-IRA Alan Cavanaugh, informed O'Breen that the committed nemesis was coming. Therefore, Glori contacted Daredevil's partner-in-crime Black Widow, who she met twice before. At O'Breen's residence, one redhead switched places with another. And, Gael got a big surprise when ambushing an apparent damsel in distress—who was actually an Avenger instead. Black Widow kicked his ass. Afterward, Natasha and Glori had a good girl talk, and the super-spy suggested that she extract an Irish lass from treacherous Manhattan. Natasha noted that O'Breen had too many powerful enemies coming after her too often to have peace of mind. For example, Kingpin, czar of organized crime, could still come after her for the Daily Bugle photographer's Kelco Chemicals investigation (see Daredevil #250-256)—just as he had hounded her before. The colleen had always wanted out of crime-ridden New York, if you look at her issues. Thus, Glori got the hell out of Dodge and relocated west. That was legitimately the last of her story in this universe.
Then, Marvel published piled poop, a crappy canard, with a Gael knock-off in scar-faced Kruel, Victor Krueller, who cruelly and crudely concluded her chronicles with her being killed. The House of Ideas should have shown more integrity. Afterall, many readers take their accounts of events as authentic. But, on the upside, the arc allowed Glorianna O'Breen to disappear into Minnesota.
The dashing diesel dodges fallen branch debris and crunches the dry leaves deposited from fall trees over the October earth of Cass County's road. Christ knows that Vicki Starr—as O'Breen is now known—savors the Northwoods of her adopted country. Many Europeans imagine that America is only New York and Los Angeles. Perhaps, they have also seen Chicago, New Orleans, or Dallas in movies and on TV. They should perhaps experience the adventures and everyday existence of the Upper Midwest and other areas. "Prof. Starr" has daily since assuming Prof. Victoria Starr's identity, and she loves her existence as Venus would hers.
Unbeknownst to O'Breen, Vicki Starr really is the Agent of Atlas and offspring of god Achelous, Venus. Vicki Starr is a redheaded humanities educator, as is Glori, who enlightened Golden State students in a bygone era. Avengers files, provided by Black Widow, inform O'Breen that extradimensional Olympian Ares abducted Prof. Starr, for whatever reason, shortly after the Summer of Love. And, Sub-Mariner and Namorita had to go save her (see Sub-Mariner #57). Following that affair, Victoria Nutley Starr, established as both scholar and journalist (see Marvel Masterworks: Atlas Era Venus), disappeared. Plausibly, she went to the Gopher State from the Golden State.
WHAM! BAM! RIP! SLAM! RAP! Hefty horsepower violently halts in a half-second. And, emerald green eyes go wide as windshield arrives in a flash. Fair forehead greets glass as bonny breast nears steering column as seatbelt rasps skin under blouse abruptly. Under the truck, the radials instantly rupture, and the axles audibly clack. Massive momentum mooted, gravity flings the dear driver back into the cab's seat. Slack-faced and dazed, she sits slumping and semi-conscious as sanguine freshly slithers from brow unbloodied the briefest moment before. Inches away, the truck's airbags have not deployed, for the devices don't do that in abrupt braking.
Bearing witness, thug Trapster almost beams a smile. His snare produced a lovely auto crash, and the lout likes it. Licking his lips, he ventures from the long grass lawn along lonely County 6. He sees the gory girl lying still like a limp Raggedy Ann doll, and he wonders if she will be more agitated later when any whiplash sets in.
Suddenly, she stirs and struggles to gather herself. With gumption, the "girl", Glori, grits her teeth, grabs the wheel, sits-up straight, and stares down the approaching bad guy. Pete pauses to play with his glue gun. Leveled at open window, it fires a hardened epoxy ball off her temple and totally incapacitates her. Specially-treated boot soles bound over the badly sticky asphalt. The side door—separating beauty and beast—opens.
Petruski's greedy glove grabs the file from the truck floor. Trapster flees into the forest before any odd or unexpected car can inconveniently come along. A total dastard, the degenerate evil-doer does not dial 911. Hopefully, on Starr's auto an app automatically alerts emergency services on-line.
Paste-Pot pants sprinting over his escape route. He is not particularly nervous. He just wants to push it to his post-hit safe haven. Plus, woody brush whips him in the bare face and smacks his exposed arms. He did not do a full costume today, for he needs to blend in the moment that he hits the inn ahead.
Past a thicket, Pete arrives at the Hideaway Inn outside hamlet Hackensack. Only a few deer hunters—high on hops at half past five—occupy the parking lot, and they notice nearly nothing when their motel neighbor manifests from the maples. He says "hi", and they reply "eh der". Trapster tiptoes into his rented cabin. And, he has gotten away with highway robbery.
Roguish Pete examines the envelope's front and rubs its seal around back. He hums "hmmm". He wonders what Wizard wanted retrieved for a friend. The wrap's return address reads Rockefeller Center. So, mailed from Midtown Manhattan to northern Minnesota.
Ms. O'Breen's mail has the alluring mystery of Pandora's Box—especially to a trickster and mischievous type. Like an enfant terrible, a thief, a thug, and a terror cannot resist temptation, troublemaking, and possible turmoil. Trapster produces a honed blade of petrified paste and promptly opens the private package, previously protected by postal rules and proper mores. Let pal Wyatt pout if he did not intend for Pete to peruse.
The scoundrel scans the report packet's title and recoils a tad. What the . . . ? He stares daggers and scowls hard.
A half-mile north, EMT Zach Jones nears neighbor Vicki Starr knocked silly and, possibly, seeing stars. Ambulance lights shimmer and strobe as the sun sets into the sylvan scenery. Zachary Jones is descended from the Son of Sabeka, Minnesota, Zephyrus Jones. Zephyr Jones famously zipped around the galaxy decades ago (see Daring Mystery Comics #2 & Mystic Comics #1) but always returned to his star city southwest of Hackensack. He was a hero, and his grandson tries to be grand as granddad.
Starr stirs slightly and stares at the ignition switch. Still on, the truck tries rolling on four flat tires. The tipsy woman turns off the vehicle. The woozy woman recalls some details about recent events.
Over the pavement, Zach dances through quick-dissolving adhesive that would be evidence if law enforcement noticed and acquired it.
Addled Glorianna grabs her phone—left by the letter thief—to call a rarely contacted contact out east.