Super Story

"You know the procedures and policy. Good for you." He crosses his arms. His body language and tone of voice are enough. Funny, he just made a joke.

"The point is, if my double might have given up some secrets to that guy, doesn't mean I did. We still don't have a name on that guy, so officially we are still calling him, 'that guy'?" I ask.

"Omen, I know you wouldn't, but we don't know what kind of program or technology that guy used on you to create that double or even why he would want to create such a weapon in the first place. He could have done all that to lure out a I.S.T member and copy one of you, just to steal secrets and sell them to the highest bidder." He keeps his tone even and hard.

"Maybe, we aren't going about this in the right way." I say, looking around, trying to find the TV remote. Hey I have been here 10 hours so far and I the TV is making me hungry. I still haven't found the remote. If I don't find it in the next 20 minutes I swear I am going to do something rash.

"Omen, what you thinking? You think there is another reason this man would create such a weapon in the first place?" He now knows, I have solved several cases before and I just might be able to solve this one too.

"I think keeping me here, because my duplicate might have given up secrets to some guy, doesn't mean I am responsible for that, does it?" I say, feeling that I am getting through to him.

"Actually, according to the meta-human powers act of 1998, you are responsible for the actions for your duplicate." He states, arms still folded and crossed.

"But, I didn't create that dupe under my own power, so I am not responsible for his actions, his creator is." I hope that helps, still a little bit stressed here.

"St. Day knows all the same things you do now and he is bringing you up under charges on several meta-human act violations. Is it just me or does St. Day not like you? Now, why is that?" He seems not to know, one of his best friends that he works with besides me hasn't told him.

"St. Day doesn't like me, might have something to do with Gold. She was dating him, before she transferred here. After a few months of working here, she broke up with him, and 3 months later she's dating me." I tell it like it is.

"That was over two years ago, he couldn't be still holding a grudge." Firebug seems unsure of the things he thought he knew.

"Well, she didn't tell him she was breaking up with him until he visited her and he proposed to her, at the Yankee's game, you know one of those big screen 'will you marry me' kind of things. She obviously told him no." I say looking at the floor.

"Did you have anything to do with her saying no to him?" He is asking the questions he wants to know for over two years.

"I didn't, you had sent me on assignment in Germany to catch the meta-hunter, Jinx, at the time. I hadn't talked to her till I got back a month after they broke up." I stand where I stand, instead of the position I was previously in.

"Is there any other reason that this guy would want you see you locked away behind bars? I mean he's got serious backing and the evidence to do it." He reminds me.

"Marcus, when he took the job as the I.S.T head of attorneys last year he started this little feud with me. So, I had his car towed everyday he came to work..." I admit.

"Oh, I knew of the little things he was doing to get under your skin, the extra reports and expense paperwork. The extra patrols he would request you did personally. I could see the only thing that would really irritate you was when he had you pay out over two thousand dollars of your own pay for that little incident with the strip club." He starts become the old Firebug I knew, a real person and not a cog in the machine.

"I had nothing to do with that, in fact I dragged my team mates out of there including our own team leader, Necro-fire." I say defending myself, again.

"True, and since you were the only one that wasn't under the control of Psi-Lord who removed their inhibitions about what they were doing in the first place, you were held accountable...wait...err..." He stammers. He never does that.

"See what I am saying? After that, I started telekinetically moving his car to handicapped parking spots and anonymously reporting it to the police. He started getting parking tickets and I stopped when his total parking violations totaled somewhere around two thousand dollars." I fold my arms.

"Oh, that was you? He been wondering and thought it had been. Wow. He was wondering when it was going to stop and 3 months later it did. Damn, that's kind of clever and not at the same time." He chuckles.

"I thought if he could blame me for the whole team doing something stupid, I thought I would do something stupid and have him take the responsibility of paying his parking tickets. I thought it was only fair." I suggest, hoping I can leave here soon, instead of bullshitting this time away to find any clues so I don't get frozen for 10 years.

"Well, it's not what I would have done, but you are a good solider when it comes down to it you are a hero and one that the team counts on, the most. You bring more to the table than St. Day does, meta-human or not. You also, admitted to something I knew already, and I know the grudge that he holds on you, but he is also trying to do his job. Before you say anything hear me out. I am going to let you go and see what you can do about this guy, before he tries this stunt again. I am giving you three days, the same amount of time as it takes to get a tri-telepath hearing. Don't fool yourself; I would do this for any member of this team." He hands me back my I.S.T paper, identification and utility belt, as if he knew he would be doing this in the first place, which I knew from knowing him he would do anyway, with out the bullshit or not. He starts removing my restraints from my head and wrists, letting them fall to the floor.

As, I walk away; I nod and tell him, "Thanks, I needed to know that my friends are still my friends."

"We are, Omen, just be careful and try your best to steer clear of St. Day." He tells me as I walk down the hall way towards the elevator. I would have flown dramatically out the window, but those were dead-locked and bolted tight. I go down a floor and open a window, and then I fly out.

Three days. Three of them. Altogether. Seventy two hours. Well, I just wasted thirty six of those hours, trying to talk to the all the witnesses in my civilian identity, I am a forensic scientist for the NY PD. Randal Lake, that's me. It's easy to access crime scenes as part of the I.S.T. and as a member of the police, but when a crime scene is fresh as a three day old stale doughnut from that store I like, it makes things a little hard to nail down.

So, I had to bluff, a skill I started to develop playing poker with Bandit, Nightstorm, The Immortal, Lock-down, and Power Knight. I think it's funny when Power Knight comes to play he brings Guinness, you know that really thick English beer. He's the only one that drinks it and he shows up in his power suit. 'Just in case there's battle.' he tells us every time. I think he does it to feel "normal" around us. He wears that thing all the time and it drives us batty, like he doesn't want to let people know he's a real person under that armor. Heck, even the girl he's dating rarely sees him out of his suit. That's the sad part of it. Maybe I am on to something?

I go back over the statement that the wife and husband gave to the police. They were asked if they had any idea who that guy was. They told the police no. They were also asked if there would be a reason that they knew that would make the unknown assailant her hostage. Again, no. I continue to read the reports again, the husband is a small time investment banker trying to start up an internet company, his name is Harold Kenny.

His wife, Lisa Kenny is the waitress that was taken hostage by the unknown man and she has been working at her father's diner since she was 16. They got married less then a year ago. Why is that sticking out in my mind. My gut is telling me something that I should be seeing, I just can't seem to get my head around it.

I need to know what they might be hiding. Were they protecting the guy that took her hostage? Maybe they honestly didn't know who, or maybe they knew who, but aren't sure. I am just afraid of the husband going all postal trying to protect his wife, by hunting down this guy himself. That's the last thing I want. A "normal" going up against a meta-human.

Depending on the "normal" it's a losing battle. Some meta-humans call everyday people "normals" not as a hurtful term, just as there is no other word that accurately describes "Non-Metahuman Joe Smoe". We throw that term around at the HQ a lot. I am starting to feel bad about doing that, but right now I have to figure this out. I was hoping not to go out in costume again since the last time. I would like to keep this low profile and solve this case, but it seems I have no choice. I pull out my cell phone to call Bandit.

He doesn't pick up, so I leave a voice mail telling him to bring me my case to where I am at. I hope the perception filter on my case still is charged, cause I don't want anyone to notice me changing in and leaving a public bathroom. The filter doesn't make you invisible or anything like that, it puts you in the corner of everyone eyes, just a little out of sight and a little out of mind. More to the point it makes people think you are someone else's problem and no one want's to deal with someone else's problem, so thus no one wants to deal with you. I.S.T. standard issue to all I.S.T members. Now, I am truly starting to wonder if I shouldn't have put in for that costume up grade. It not only teleports to you, it teleports ON you. Maybe next time.

I wait less then five minutes when the blue blur speeds past me. My case at my feet and a post it note with the words "Here you go. Are we even yet?" I laugh to myself. If anything I saved him more times than the highest number he can count to in a second. Firebug released him just before I was let go. St. Day didn't find any cause or reason to hold him any longer. I see that the filter is charged. I turn it on and walk into a McDonald's. Walk pass everyone into the bathroom and lock the door. I change there were a few knocks, but the filter sort makes the people outside of it usually forget for a second what they were doing.

I change in less than five minutes and I am out. The filter only has a twenty minute charge, so I fly out the door, literally fly out the doors of the Golden Arches. I make another call for Bandit to pick up my case and tell him there's "gas money" in the case for him. The money he wanted to borrow in the first place. I was going to give in at some point anyway. I fly to the diner. I wonder if they would be surprised to see me again?

I land in front of the door, just as a elderly gentleman and his wife are about to enter. I say how sorry I am and tell them excuse me and open the door for them, the man nods and the woman smiles and go before me. When you are superhero, you can never forget your manners. I walk in and all eyes on the guy in the costume. Five men almost run over each other to get out the door. Must be thugs, I think to myself, it's funny how the I.S.T logo is like a police badge, but isn't as threatening as the costume. Now I know what you are thinking, wait the bad guys wear costumes too. They do, but the difference between me and the bad guys is that I don't head for the hills when I hear police sirens. The waitress comes up to me, she knows the costume, she looks scared, and looks to her husband.

"You again? What are you doing here?" he grips his fists hard as he stomps towards me. "We already answered all your questions." he continues.

"You answered the police's questions, not mine." I got to keep my sentences short and simple.

"Haven't we enough trouble from your kind already?" His fists are gripped tighter, knuckles white, fingers red and veins blue.

"Why are you acting this way? You didn't seem to have this attitude the other night when I saved your wife." I got to be blunt.

"Harry, just stop." She appears almost out of nowhere, walks in front of him, and stands between us. She does it without fear or emotion, like she talks to guys in costume everyday. "I will answer all of your questions." she finishes.

"Well if you will allow me, I would just make this quick, and you won't have to say a word." I am now looking down at her.

"How? What are you going to do to me?" She has a little nervousness in her voice.

"I just want to read your mind, if you will allow it. This will answer all of my questions and get me out of your hair." I hope she lets me, it's by far the easiest way.

"Lisa, you don't have to do that he has no right to invade your mind, there are laws." He is heard and she looks towards him. She nods and turns toward me.

"That's why I am asking, as a member of the I.S.T. I am bound by certain laws." I say, knowing that the everyday person on the street knows the laws, but not as well as the people who enforce them.

"Lisa, you can just say no and he will leave, so we can be done with all of this." He says as he tries to step in front of his wife.

"No, he won't leave and I did say I would answer his questions, but I won't let him in my head. He saved my life before, and yours. He must be trying to do it again." She speaks before I could say anything, she's a smart lady, but I am also trying to save my own ass to here, but they don't have to know that.

"I am not here to make your lives harder, but I have to know if you have any connection to that guy from the other night. If you know anything about him at all, please be honest with me, cause if he ran away, he will come back for what he is after, and I am not going to let him get it." I stand straight and emphasize the words that need to be.

"Please, take a seat, it's going to be a long story. Would you like some coffee, on the house?" She guides me to a bar-stool at the counter. I sit and slide my mask up to show the bottom half of my face. It makes it easier to eat and drink, who knew?

"Two creams, two sugars, please." I know what I want, before she asks.

She smiles with nervous calm and gives me the cup of coffee. Her hubby takes up a seat right next to me, watching me, and looking me over. I pay no attention to him, because I was watching her pour my coffee, put the sugars, and the creamers into it.

Can't be too careful when you are superhero. Lots of friends to be made and just as many enemies. Sometimes you can't tell which is which, nothing against her. She takes a long pause, gathering herself, looks to her husband, nods to him, and just as she is about to speak.

"He's my little brother." Harold Kenny speaks softly. White shirt, tie undone, and cuffs rolled up.

"Huh?" I say as I finish my sip of coffee.

"He's my little brother." He repeats himself in response. It's not that I didn't hear him, it's the shock of what he said.

"If it wasn't for him I would have never met Lisa, they went to high school together." He continues and smiles as he looks at her.

"So, does your family have a history of meta-human genes?" I need to know.

"Yes, but it's passive or something, it happens once every so many generations, at least that's what how it was explained to me. My great-grandfather is still alive and has not aged a day in eighty years. Anyway, my brother, Harrison, he was born with this high I.Q., he never needed to sleep, and he seemed to have this instinct when it came to electronics and such." All I can think about is how this guy seemed to want to beat me into the ground about ten minutes ago. Harold seems very open now.

"So, I am guessing he never made a habit of taking hostages before?" I am trying to keep on task.

"I am not sure about that, after he graduated college my family hadn't heard from him, till a few years later, he started mailing checks to our parents, with letters thanking them for paying for school. Sure, the folks would write back asking him about his life and such, he would write back saying that he had a great job at a tech company in New York. My parents plead with him to call or come home for a visit, but he never did." He is staring down at the counter.

"So, do you think..." I start only to be interrupted.

"That's not entirely true, Harrison did call and visit me, from time to time." She seems to have a hint of shame in her voice

"Lisa, why didn't you tell me?" Harry's eyes look very sad now.

I don't interrupt, I let her continue.

"It was before we started seriously dating, Harry. He would visit when I was working and would ask me not to tell anyone we had seen each other or talked. It wasn't till he started asking me to be his girlfriend, when I asked him to leave me alone. He always told me I was the only one that understood him. He isn't a bad person, he just a little misguided, and I told him someday he will find that special person. Of course, he would tell me that I was that special person. I finally told him I met someone and he asked who. I told him, because he would have figured it out anyway. I made a deal with him that I would keep my promise not to tell anyone we kept in contact, if he left me alone. Two years later I married Harry. I sent him an email telling him he was invited to the wedding and that his family missed him very much. He never responded." She is sad too, looking at her husband.

"I'm guessing that you and Harrison dated in high school?" I sip my coffee after I speak. It's really good.

"No, we were very close friends, if Harrison were to have asked me out, I might have said yes, but he never did. So, one day during my senior year I met his brother, Harry and we hit it off. He was older and in college at the time, so we made time for each other whenever we could, but he would make a point to bring me fresh flowers every time he visited me. He still does." She smiles faintly as she looks at the end of the counter where there is a vase of fresh flowers.

"It's starting to make sense now." I say as I finish yet another sip of my coffee.

"How so?" Harry asks, almost getting up as if he was asking with his body.

"Lisa, you are the perfect girl for Harrison, so much so he wasn't willing to steal you from his own brother, as I am sure he feels that his brother did to him, but rather he was going to copy you. But that night he inadvertently copied me, during our fight, and I am guessing he also had a way to deal with any unwanted copies. He isn't carrying any lethal weapons, well lethal to anyone he copies." I set the coffee cup down.

"So, are you saying he will be back?" Lisa acts scared now and looks toward her husband.

"Yes, but there is nothing to be scared of." I pull out my phone from one of my pouches, open it, and dial up the code.

"I need a file pulled up on Harrison Kenny, if there is one. Give me anything you can find. Put a rush on it." I pull my mask back down, it's time to get serious. I wait for the voice to respond.

"Well, Omen, he's known as Arsenal. He's a weapons maker and supplier for various countries, mostly he makes modifications to existing weapons technology. He's been under the radar for about three years, during an incident in Haiti rendered one of his weapons useless. Just so you know, Quake woke up a few hours ago."

"Really? What did he have to say?" I ask anyway, knowing the answer.

"When he woke up, he realized he didn't have his power suit on, so he told us he would turn the guy in that made it for him, if we worked out a deal for him. We got a name and whereabouts. Guess what? The name matches the guy you are looking for." That's what I didn't want to hear, but glad I did, none the less.

"Yeah, I knew you were going to say that." Firebug is so smug now, I can feel it through the phone.