The Horseman Ch. 02 Pt. 01

New York City 1957

The rumors were flying around not only the city but also the country about 'The Horseman' and his startling appearance in the fight against crime and corruption. Naturally, opinions varied widely. Many thought he was a masked lunatic who fancies himself some sort of Samurai with his swords and bows. There were others shared the opinion that he was a lunatic but were secretly glad that the bad guys seemed to be taking out the bad guys. The rank and file police officers of the city were surprisingly short on negative opinions of the vigilante, though his apparent respect and deference to the NYPD no doubt contributed to that state as much as the fact that he had saved the life of the daughter of a highly respected veteran Captain (who was even accepted by some as a true cop herself).

While the attack on Lisa's home definitely got the ball rolling on 'The Horseman's' notoriety, it was the events of the following days that created the media circus.

Apparently, the men who tried to kill Lisa in her home were just some young Italian thugs trying to earn reputations and respect. Unfortunately, one of the men was the nephew to the Underboss of one of the Five Families, Salvatore Rissa.

Rissa was a rail thin man with a weasel-like face and a thin mustache. He had pale, pasty skin with pock marks from childhood still visible on his face and severe halitosis. The dead, glassy black eyes of the man were the only indication that he was a cold and effective killer. In fact, it was killing that allowed him to rise through the ranks of Underboss AKA 'Street Boss', despite the fact that he was always an outsider.

Unlike most, he had no family connections to La Cosa Nostra, by blood or marriage. In fact, he wasn't even full blooded Italian. It was his deepest secret that his weak father had been cuckholded by an idiotic Russian delivery man. The night he became a 'Made Man' he strangled his mother with the cord from her bedroom window blinds after painfully extracting the Russian deliveryman's name and last known residence. That had made it easy to locate the man since he hasn't moved in all those years. It was a simple matter to caulk the door seams and locks to prevent was people before quietly walking around the house and squirting the lighter fluid from their backyard barbecue over the outer walls (concentrating especially on the areas around windows and doors). He the. proceeded to light a cigarette and dispose of the used match by tossing it into the puddle of fluid at the back door. He even stayed to hear his biological father and the man's real family burn alive. He was a sick fuck.

Despite everyone thinking him an only son of a weak, cowardly and poor disgrace for an Sicilian man and a fat, hairy woman who had been a prostitute in Palermo before coming to America immediately following World War One, he learned to instill fear in almost all of his peers.

While Rissa's temperament and moderately high intelligence alone was enough to make him dangerous, both were amplified significantly when he was forced to choose between prison or the battlefields of Europe as a 17 year old boy who had been caught robbing a movie theater with s switchblade. It had not been his first offense. He wisely (or foolishly, depending on whom you ask) chose to join the Army and and was enlisted as an Infantryman and shipped off to France.

In the Army, he learned how to kill with more than knives, clubs and pistols as well as learning about more advanced combat tactics and familiarizing himself with military grade weaponry. He also somehow looted and successfully smuggled back a significant amount of gems, which aided in his establishing himself in the New York Underworld. His services as a contract killer brought him into contact with a few of the right (wrong) people and through a not so subtle threat, acquired a large formerly Irish Pub with apartments upstairs and a salon next door.

After acquiring the salon and opening up the walls in between, he turned it into his Gentleman's Club and hangout. It quickly became a popular hangout for Italian mobsters and allowed him to establish many useful connections. Soon, the 'work' he had been doing led to him joining a crew. Serving a few years in that crew was enough to bring him close to the Family and within another two years he was inducted into the family as a 'Made Man'.

Shortly after he was 'Made' he noticed that he actually had a few women willing to marry him. He was evidentially drawn to a young girl whose family was peripherally related to the Family. Her short and rail thin build mixed with her mousy facial features and button nose drew Sal in. As soon as he figured out that she was a natural submissive, both inside and outside of the bedroom, he quickly married her with little fanfare. It was her sister's son who, wanting to earn the respect of his uncle, tried to use his relationship with Salvatore Rissa to gather some other hoods to attack the bitch-cop that had been causing them problems (including arresting him after embarrassingly boxing him onto his ass).

Obviously, this caused a whole shitstorm. The NYPD believed that the Mob was making some sort of declaration of war by trying to murder a female cop in her bed at home by trying to rape her and blow her house up (intentionally or not, the story was altered and embellished without mention that it was 'The Horseman' who actually orchestrated all of the pyrotechnics.

Meanwhile, the Mob was pissed about losing those young men who had dangerous family and friends. Rissa was absolutely determined to painfully end the existence of the bitch-cop and the crazy medieval motherfucker in the hood.

Without knowing who the vigilante was, he had no choice but to go for the she-pig first. Plus, he had no doubt that once he had her at his mercy that he would be a me to extract a name from her, if she knew his identity. It seemed likely that she would.

He decided to have some of his men on the force arrange themselves on her protective detail one evening a few nights after the attack on her home. He was confident his men would bring her in. But, if they fucked up, they were expendable. Uniformed patrolmen on the payroll were useful but hardly a vital asset like the NYPD Captain or the multiple corrupt detectives that worked for him.

That night, as Lisa drove home with her protective detail following, her escort flashed their lights signaling for her to pull over. Though she was curious, she wasn't overly worried. At least, she wasn't until the patrolmen told her that they thought they had seen smoke or steam coming from her wheel wells. They told her they were concerned that someone had tampered with her brakes, or worse, and asked if she could hold the flashlight while they simultaneously checked both sides of the undercarriage. Though she thought it an odd way to proceed, she was tired and wanted to get home. So she acquiesced and exited the driver's side just in time to see one of the patrolmen swing his flashlight right at her neck.

Barely given a chance to react, her arm just barely made it up in time to block the swing. That didn't prevent the heavy aluminum tube from impacting her arm with enough force to temporarily prevent its use. She quickly ducked another blow and back pedaled, trying to create space and time.

Unfortunately, the other officer had come around the front bumper of her car, cutting off her escape. She felt terror rise in her chest as she realized that instead of brandishing weapons at her, they simple held a pair of handcuffs, a length of rope, duct tape and a black bag.

Knowing that her only real chance was the gun still sitting on her car seat, well out of reach, she simply charged the closest man. Catching him by surprise was a bonus but a trained woman fighting against two larger and similarly trained men with one arm rarely ended well for the fairer sex.

As the men each grabbed and pinned one of her arms behind her back, she was saved from a painful death for the second time in less than a week by arrows flicking through the darkness from an unseen source. Oddly, it seemed like both arrows hit their target at the same exact instant.

With a forceful lurch, the corrupt patrolmen bellowed in seemingly synchronized screams of pain as she turned to see a black arrow protruding from the thighs of each man. Shockingly, the arrows had hit both men with enough force to fully penetrate and pin each one's leg to the steel body of her Chevy.

Lisa looked about wildly as she regained her composure before diving back into her car and reemerging with the Walther PPK that she carried under the seat. As she spun around and urgently brought her gun up, she was confronted with the figure that previously saved her at her house.

"The Horseman'.

Still, she didn't lower her weapon. His striking eyes penetrated her very soul, or so it seemed, leaving her feeling vulnerable despite the fact that she held a gun on him.

She could tell he was smiling underneath his half-mask as he removed his hood. Facing her with the lower half of his face covered by what she could only describe as a 'Samurai mask' with it's glossy black and dull grey colors depicted the lower face of a fanged demon wearing a sardonic smile. The effect of the mask alone was quite unsettling but it was the rest of his outfit that made an impression.

Though he wore a mink fur lined hooded cloak, fastened around his shoulders with short length of platinum chain and the the pelt of a huge lion laid over his shoulders, she could still see most of the front of his armor suit. The cuirass covering his torso could technically be described as a muscled cuirass however it looked different than the classical style made with sheet metal hammered into an anatomical representation of the torso that it covered like the ones she had seen in all of the Sword and Sandal movies that she so loved. But this cuirass seemed to be made up of many interlocking smaller plates that fit together to depict a high-tech representation of the individual muscle groups in a leanly muscular male torso. His hands and forearms were covered with gauntlets, segmented individual plates covering the separate joints of his fingers without restricting their movement. A pair of short wakizashi swords hung from each hip along with a bowcase that hung along the right thigh and housed the recurve bow and dozens of arrows in a variety of styles, made for a variety of purposes. A long, subtly curved katana was strapped to his back

"Who are you?" Lisa asked, her voice strong.

"Do you really expect me to give you my name?" He replied humorously.

"I suppose not" she said, "why are you helping me?"

"Because I rather like you. You are brave, honest and honorable, unlike most. More, I admire you."

"Says a man who spends his nights jumping off rooftops and..."

"Get down!" He yelled, tackling her to the ground as the roaring of a car engine grew and the staccato burst of automatic weapons fire erupted around them.

Lisa felt several consecutive impacts as he lay on top of her and she realized that he was shielding her body as the bullets struck his broad back repeatedly, causing her to cry out at the realization that he was dying for her.

The gunshots stopped as the car pulled up and two men hopped out, careful to keep the downed figured in the sights of their strange looking automatic weapons. They walked up as Lisa helplessly struggled to escape from underneath the armored weight of... Armor! Lisa thought as the two men raised their guns only to scream and collapse in response to two pairs of meaty impacts.

Aiden had played possum until the men were within range before his katana whistled in a deadly arc as it was drawn from his back in the shinobi style to slice through the shooters' Achilles' tendons. The two men, large blonde men who cursed in German, hadn't even completed their descent to the ground when the sword flashed again and two STG-44 assault rifles clattered to the street with a hand still wrapped around the grip of each.

The driver of the car raised a Luger and leaned out his window to take a shot but, faster than her eyes could follow, The Horseman drew and fired an arrow from the knee that flickered through the intervening space at an upward angle to pierce the driver's hand and pin it through the roof of the car.

"Are you ok?" The Horseman asked Lisa with a groan.

"I... I think so." Lisa replied as she regained her wits after the near death experience.

When she looked up, he was rifling through the bodies and she noticed that despite the no fatal wounds they were all dead, eyes still open. Seeing her look, he said "cyanide capsules. As soon as it was spare t that they wouldn't escape, they offer themselves."

"Christ, why?"

"They're Nazis," he replied distractedly as he looked through the contents of their pockets before returning to the car and popping the trunk.

"Nazis?!"

"There were rumors that many of the high ranking officials that escaped the fall of the Third Reich had rendezvoused in Argentina, some said for refuge while others said that they traveled there as part of a plan to start an underground resistance."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Is it?" He asked, "after all, Adolf's death was never truly confirmed. In fact, the only confirmation there was was the statements of a few of his personal guards and even they didn't see him die. In fact all they ever saw was two bodies wrapped in blankets that they were told belonged to Hitler and Eva Braun. The Russians only recovered two scorched bodies with no way to verify them. The world was so eager to believe that Hitler was dead that many didn't even consider other possibilities."

"That can't possibly be, though. Can it?"

"Normally I would agree with that. But the fact that three SS men lay dead at our feet, here in New York City, I'm not so sure. I..."

"What the hell?" Lisa said, turning to point behind him.

However Aiden didn't look. He was distracted by what he had just found sitting in a very old stone box in the trunk, the only item in it. Removing the lid had revealed a dagger that appeared to be made from ivory or bone and looked positively ancient. The blade was thin and long with a razor sharp point and a strange dull finish. The dagger seemed to vibrate with energy and Aiden felt a strange feeling in his hand as it texted forward to trace the unrecognizable runes artfully engraved into the strange horn handle. However the instant that his finger made contact with the hilt the, the dagger simply vanished. The only noticeable effect was a reddish glow that seemed to emanate from the veins on the hand that touched the blade. He was unable to further consider it further due to Lisa's increasingly insistent voice calling for him.

"What is it?" Aiden asked as he turned around.

About forty meters away a man and a woman approached. The man seemed to be in middle age while the woman appeared a bit younger, both were African American and very physically fit. The most obvious aspect of their appearance was the white costumes and eye masks that they wore, tights that coveted their bodies but left little to the imagination. The man was very tall, wide and muscular, 6'7" and 270 lbs. at least, while woman was lean but curvy at around 5'9" and 145 lbs. and not an ounce of fat outside the heavy, round breasts and large bubble butt. Aiden called out to them, "nice costumes but you know it isn't Halloween yet."

"Shut up. You need to come with us," said the giant of a man, muscles bulging under the white tights.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because you don't want to get smashed."

"Would it be you that did the smashing, Ox-man?"

"My name is Moon and don't say I didn't warn you..."

Moon started to step forward before his companion placed a hand on his chest and he stopped and she said, "remember why we are here."

Turning to Aiden she said, "my name is Star and we were sent to collect you. Your country needs you."

"My country? Are telling me that the United States government us now employing costumed crime fighters?"

"My husband and I have... abilities that resulted from a lab accident. We offered our services to the government so that we could do something good with the power that God bestowed upon us."

"God, huh?"

"I believe so, yes." Star said.

"And, these abilities... What exactly are they?"

Star responded in a level and logical voice that left no doubt of her speaking fact, "we both received increased reflexes, sharpened senses and physical health. Moon possesses greatly enhanced physical strength, density of muscle and bone and slightly accelerated healing."

"And you?"

"I can absorb, harness and manipulate solar energy."

"That sounds quite useful," Aiden said.

"Thank you" Star said, obviously surprised that The Horseman had grasped the significance and versatility of manipulating starlight.

"You do realize that I don't have any super powers, right? Why would the government want to recruit me?"

"I asked the same thing," Moon grumbled.

"Hush, Moon." Star said before turning to The Horsemen and speaking, "maybe not but your training, skills and tactics are highly unusual. You have managed to successfully combat the city's worst criminal elements for months by using a bow and a sword in gunfight after gunfight. I think our handler and the project supervisors are anxious to find out where you received your training."

Moon looked angry at the admiration present in Star's voice but Aiden just ignored him and spoke, "you don't want to know where I was trained."

"More importantly, you managed to successfully intercept and neutralize a highly trained SS team that had been hired for some sort of job here in New York. We only recently discovered that there were SS teams still operating, though now they work as the world's finest military mercenaries, for anyone who can pay their exorbitant fees

"Yes, I gathered as much."

"Already, really? How?" Star said, starting to act like an impressed schoolgirl and making Moon's insecurity rise further. He has always felt like his younger wife was out of his league and as smart as he was scientifically, he still didn't exhibit much of a practical intelligence and it made his ego quite fragile. He tended to use power or brute force as a solution to his problems and his super strength meant that it usually worked, though his wife wished he would at least learn finesse in the bedroom.

Aiden smiled and though his black mempo mask covered the lower half of his face, his strikingly beautiful eyes betrayed his facial expression as he spoke in his low, charming voice and prepared to play on the fact that Star was obviously sexually excited by witty and intellectual men, "there were actually several indicators. The first was their weapons; German manufactured, military grade hardware but more than that, the Sturmgewehr model 44 was particularly favored by the SS during the war. They were only produced and issued to a few units late in the war and many said that the Nazi's would've won the war had they developed the weapon sooner as it combined the high rate of fire and compact size of a submachine gun with the greater velocity, power, range and accuracy of a rifle. These weapons are very hard to find and only the most elite German troops received them. In addition, the men possessed Germanic bone structure and facial features as well as the physical characteristics favored by the Aryans. Also, I heard one of the men curse in German, using a vulgar expression commonly used by SS troops on the Eastern Front. The cyanide capsules, excellent quality fake passports and willingness to use both only confirmed it."

Star was almost panting with need after the intellectual foreplay. "That really is quite..."