Adventures of Superguy

August 13, 2010 - Las Vegas, NV

Palms Casino Resort

20:07:19

The desert heat of the Las Vegas strip faded as Superboy and Kid Quick entered the casino and escaped into its blessed air conditioning. Tourists and gamblers flocked around them, and he studiously avoided eye contact with any of the security personnel. There were prominent signs stating any guest had to be 21 to walk the casino floor, but with a quick glance at Kid, who shrugged, they soldiered on. As they passed through the entranceway, there were ads for all the in residence musical and theater acts at the casino. Superboy noted the posters advertising dance shows mostly showed scantily clad men. 

“Your eye is twitching again.” Kid offered out the corner of her mouth.

“No it’s not.” He insisted, rubbing his brow self consciously.

“Riiight. Think we got time for a show?” She asked with a smirk.

Superboy rolled his eyes, ignoring the question, and surveyed the casino floor. Their target was supposedly a fixture of the blackjack tables. He employed his super vision, and details leapt to his attention as he searched the crowds near the blackjack tables for the objective. Kid tugged at her canary yellow shot sleeve button up, over red high rise shorts, still not happy with being in her civvies while working. Superboy had simplified by leaving the Jacket back at the Cave when they Zeta-Tubed to Vegas, so was just in his jeans and shield T-shirt.

This is the most teleporting I’ve done in a day. Getting jet lagged, or Zeta-lagged? Still rough, even when you’re invulnerable.

“Should I take a quick walk around and see if I can find her?” Kid asked eagerly.

“We’re trying to keep a low profile. Covert, remember?” He replied with a glance.

“True, true. Its a case so cold its sub zero. We weren’t even born when Adams died. Yarrow’s not going anywhere, except maybe the Goddess’ waiting room.”

“Speak of the devil.” He answered, focusing on a green and pink Hawaiian shirt wearing back, parked at the lowest minimum bid blackjack table. With a head jerk, he indicated their quarry and the two walked in that direction. 

The woman they approached was wearing the loud Hawaiian shirt and tan board shorts, nursing a mostly empty cocktail as she was dealt another hand by the bored looking dealer. She was the only player at the table as they reached it.

“Lieutenant Yarrow?” Superboy asked.

“No.” Came the tired response, her eyes flicking to him and then back to her cards. “Retired the uniform and the title. Now I’m just Miss Yarrow. But you can call me Henri.” Yarrow said as she tapped her cards. Superboy saw she had a 2 and a 10 in front of her. “Hit me.”

The King of Spades landed in front of Yarrow, and she scowled.

“Twenty two. Bust.” The dealer intoned automatically, then addressed Superboy.

“And, sir, no one under twenty one is allowed in the casino.” She asked with a raised eyebrow. “You are under twenty one?”

“Uh… depends on which birthday you go by.” He answered cryptically. Yarrow snorted and stood up, finishing her drink as she pushed away from the table. 

“Cute. You must be the journalism students.” She said, addressing the two undercover heroes. “C’mon, my luck’s run out anyway. Let’s find a place to talk that they can’t throw you kids out of.”

She led them to one of the casino’s numerous eateries, and Kid quickly took advantage of the opportunity to fulfill her daily BBQ chicken wing requirements. 

“$4.95 all-you-can-eat buffet! This is my kind of town!” She exclaimed as she placed two fully loaded plates in front of her. Superboy tried to steal a wing but a suspiciously swift hand pulled the plate away with an accusing glare. Yarrow chuckled at their antics before Superboy turned to the matter at hand and introduced them.

“Connor Clark, and this is Wallis West. From The Stanford Daily.” He said, and Walli glared at him with a mouthful of chicken for using her full name. She wiped a hand on a wet wipe and fished out her student ID. 

“I was surprised to get your email. Its been a lifetime since all of this happened. Longer than the both of yours, combined.” Yarrow said as she sipped another cocktail.

“Our… professor assigned us a bit of homework, to research a cold case and see what we can uncover.” Superboy explained, and Yarrow nodded along.

Ha, this is easier than I thought. Wait, I gave our real names. 

Dang.

Ah, it’ll be fine. James Bond does it!

Shaking his head, he plowed ahead.

“You were Nathalie Adams defense counsel?” He asked.

“Her friend, too. Served together in ‘Nam. The only survivors of Hill 409.” Yarrow said with a mix of pride and old, well trodden grief.

“Nat worked in Air Force Intelligence. She suspected a weapons smuggling ring and confided as much to General LeMar.” She continued, and Superboy put his Eye Phone down to record the conversation for the others.

“LeMar claimed to have heard rumors too. Ordered Nat to take a squad to Hill 409.” Her face fell, then she scowled. “It was an ambush. Nat saved my life. The rest of Nat’s gals weren’t so lucky. Nat became convinced LeMar was part of the smuggling ring and had sent us into the ambush.” She said bitterly.

“I tried to talk her out of it, but Nat insisted on confronting LeMar… only to black out moments later.” Yarrow’s scowl deepened as she continued. “Later, Nat would insist she had been drugged, and I believed her. There’s no way the Nathalie Adams I knew would murder a woman in cold blood!”

She took a long sip of her cocktail while they listened with rapt attention. Less rapt in Kid’s case, as she filled a plate with chicken bones. Resignation filled Yarrow like a great weight as she tried to unburden herself to them.

“I took on Nat’s defense, but the prosecutor, Lieutenant Kendra Blankly proved Nat’s service knife was the murder weapon.” She said with disgust. “And the medical examiner, Major Sherman Mason testified there were no drugs in Nat’s system. So the judge found Nat guilty and sentenced her to life in prison… and that’s where Nat died.” She finished the story and drained her cocktail.

“But get this!” She exclaimed suddenly, pounding her fist on the table. “That judge, Colonel Wilhemina Eiling, she married Nat’s widower and raised Nat’s two kids as her own!” She snarled. Superboy and Kid’s eyebrows shot up and they straightened with interest. Superboy leaned in, glancing at the phone to make sure they got all of it.

Eiling didn’t mention that… and I didn’t remember that detail from the comics. 

“Tell me that doesn’t stink to high heaven! But that happened a few years after, I didn’t know anything about it at the time it happened. Didn’t find out until years after Nat died.” Yarrow continued, eyes searching all around as her grip tightened on her empty glass.

“If Nat was framed, then the place to start is with Sherman Mason, the medical examiner who said Nat wasn’t drugged…”

********

August 13, 2010 - Washington, DC

The Hall of Justice

23:57:20

‘Recognized. Kid Quick, B-03.’

‘Recognized. Superboy, B-04.’

Superboy whistled as the light of the Zeta-Tube faded, leaving them in a room he had only seen in old cartoons, now made startlingly real. The library of the Hall of Justice was a large and well appointed room, with high ceilings and blue carpets. Bookshelves lined the palace, interspersed with large computer screens and consoles that looked like they belonged on a science fiction movie set. 

Don’t. Geek. Out.

He bit his lip as he utterly failed at the task. Glancing at Kid, she had an eyebrow raised as he looked away guiltily. 

“No time for the tour, Super-boytoy. We’re investigating. Covertly.” She said as she elbowed him lightly and waggled her eyebrows suggestively. It certainly served to distract him as his eyes were glued to her instead of their surroundings.

Damn, I have to come back and get the tour… and check in with Dubbilex. Things are more stable now, I need to see about helping the genomorphs.

He followed Kid as she led them unerringly through the darkened building as he called Robin and Ms. Martian on the comms.

“Superboy to Robin; we just arrived back at the Hall of Justice. Did you guys find Mason yet?” He asked, a finger to the comm bead in his ear.

“Yeah, we found her alright.” Robin said quietly with a weary sigh. “Just got to her home in Annapolis.”

Superboy and Kid shared a doubtful look, picking up on Robin’s attitude.

“Looks like the medical examiner needs a medical examiner. She’s dead.”

He froze, his jaw falling open. Kid’s mouth set into a grim line as she listened. Robin began rattling off details of the crime scene, playing the Great Detective once more but he could tell she wasn’t enjoying it this time.

“Deceased, male, Caucasian. confirmed as Dr. Sherman Mason, age 64, former United States of Columbia Air Force Medical Examiner. His wallet was with his keys by the door. Cause of death; sharp force trauma wound from the right deltoid, across the body in a diagonal, to the left anterior-superior iliac spine. Penetrating wound into the thoracic wall. The blade was incredibly sharp, more than a razor. His clothes look barely disturbed by the cut, no tearing.” 

Robin described the crime scene with clinical detachment, and Superboy had spent enough time in hospitals to speak a little of the medical lingo. Seeing Kid’s confusion, he translated off the comm.

“Someone cut him open, shoulder to hip.” He said grimly, and Kid turned white.

“Body’s cold. Rigor mortis only just set in. Time of death estimated 2 to 3 hours ago. No signs of a struggle, just the blood pooled under the body. That’s unusual; that looks like a sword wound. Single edged blade, impossibly sharp, slightly curved. The blow matches a kesa-giri in kendo, katana slash diagonally across the body. But there should be blood splatters on the floor from the follow through. Its like the blade just passed right through him, carrying nothing with it…”

Superboy shuddered at the description, imagining it perfectly well.

“His bag is by the door, right next to his keys.” Ms. Martian added. “It looks like he came home, put his things down, walked into the living room and…” She couldn’t finish.

“Killer was waiting for him?” Superboy asked.

“Wait…” Robin said, and he and Kid waited with baited breath.

“There’s something under the body. Ms. Martian, could you levitate it without disturbing the body too much?” She asked, and the Martian acquiesced.

“Its a framed picture. Looks like this photo was taken in the Sixties. Uniformed personnel… and a boy? USC personnel, and an Asian woman in a different uniform. The man in the picture might be Mason. Not that many men in uniform back then. Scanning and uploading now.” Robin narrated, and his phone dinged as he got the picture.

It was just as she described; six women, one man and a young boy. There was one woman in an open collar shirt and sport coat, but the rest were in uniform. Having seen plenty of uniforms today, he recognized Air Force dress uniforms, though an older design. Two women anchored the group on the left; he recognized the murder victim from Adams’ trial, Gen. Clementine LeMar. He didn’t know the other. Next to them in line was the man in a slightly different uniform, wearing a weird little hat he could dimly recall female soldiers wearing in his own universe. Then another Air Force female officer that looked somewhat familiar. 

The Asian woman’s uniform was clearly not Columbian (twitch) and she wore a peaked cap while resting her hand on the boy’s shoulder. He was slight, Asian, and was in plain traditional clothes. He was terribly out of place among these adult soldiers. Behind the Asian woman was the one in civilian clothes, and finally on the right was another Air Force soldier, this one with an MP armband on.

“Well, that looks super suspicious.” Kid stated as she looked over his shoulder. “Hey, while we’re here, we’ll run Guild facial recognition, see who these folks are.” She plucked his phone from his hand and zipped over to one of the Hall’s computers to plug it in and typed at a blurring pace to begin running the search.

“Uh oh, the cops are here. Time to go, Ms. M.” Robin warned, and cut the line while they apparently dodged the local police. Superboy winced as he thought about all the crimes they were committing.

Wait, why do I keep feeling bad about this? I’m a superhero, for god’s sake! It’s not illegal when we do it. Because… reasons. Probably. I KNOW Eiling is behind all this. He’s always a bad guy… girl. Gal? Oh right, that’s why Walli keeps saying ‘gals’... he mused while the computer ran its search, pinging them after a moment. 

When he saw the first result, he was flabbergasted.

“General Duk Trang… of NORTH Vietnam’s People’s Army of Vietnam? Why the hell are a bunch of Amer-Columbian military officers taking a photo with a North Vietnamese General? Isn’t that, like, treason?” Superboy asked, incredulous.

Kid continued her superspeed typing, reading articles and files as they flew across the screen while Superboy could only catch a headline or file name. 

“It gets weirder than that; Gen. Trang defected to the South right at the end of the war, while the North was winning, and received asylum in the USC. In fact… she lives in Annapolis, too. We’re also getting a 68% match on the man in the picture; that’s Mason.” Kid narrated to the others as she glanced through files. 

“I have the sneaking suspicion we already know everyone in this picture.” Superboy muttered darkly, crossing his arms. “And this can’t be a coincidence. We started digging into this today, me and Ms. M visit Eiling and then Kid and I meet Yarrow, and now Mason’s dead before we can talk to him?”

God, is this our fault? We kicked a hornet’s nest and now someone is dead…

He shook his head; the team was doing its job. They hadn’t killed Mason, Eiling had. He knew Captain Atom’s origin from the comics; he had been set up by his superior officer for a crime he didn’t commit and volunteered for the experiment that made him into a superhero to have a chance at a pardon. Something about an alien spaceship and an atom bomb; it was a wild story.

That officer; General Wade Eiling! 

But the experiment had seemingly killed him; he didn’t return in his Captain Atom form for years. Here, apparently, the military had declared Captain Natalie Adams dead by suicide in prison, rather than reveal the truth. Stepping over to another console, he glanced over at Kid as she kept researching, and seeing she was busy, he looked up Captain Atom’s records. 

She had first appeared in 2006, and achieved some prominent independent heroics. She joined the Justice Guild in 2008. Atom was one of the Guild’s heavy hitters, and having been on the receiving end of Darci’s duplicated atomic blasts, he had to agree. She maintained a secret identity, and the Guild didn’t provide him access to her real name. That broadly matched what he remembered of the old comics’ timeline; Adams had seemingly died in the experiment, and then returned many years later as Captain Atom with his powers. 

Okay, I’m not being weird or paranoid. Natalie Adams IS Captain Atom, and Gen. Wade Eiling set her up, convicted her as the judge, and sent her to die in the Captain Atom experiment. And then married her husband, raised her kids! What a monster…

Eiling was the culprit, he was sure of it. The version he knew was all about building and controlling super soldiers for the military, especially against the Justice League. The woman he’d met today didn’t seem like that kind of a monster, but she was obviously a good actor. The fact that nobody ever questioned it when the officer who had been the judge at a court martial married the defendant’s former spouse was crazy. There was no way it could be a coincidence. He shut down the console as he saw Kid was finishing up as well.

“Should we alert Captain Atom?” He asked over comms. “Our cold case just turned hot.”

“This is the case the Captain assigned to us.” Aqualass replied, and he could hear the sound of waves over the radio. “So we are going to finish it. Apollo and I are done here in Hawaii; Capt. Adam’s adult children were not a particularly fruitful avenue. They see Eiling as their mother, having grown up with her. But her son informed us that Adam’s late husband always believed in her innocence.” 

Superboy’s face twisted in disgust.

“I’m telling you, Eiling set this up. She stole Adam’s family and life! She literally convicted Adams. Yarrow was right, this thing stinks.”

“Then we must find evidence, before the trail is cut short. Apollo and I will return as soon as possible, but the rest of you are already in Washington. Rendezvous at Gen. Trang’s residence and keep a close watch. Adams had suspected a weapons smuggling ring, and now we know a North Vietnamese general who switched sides is involved. The picture confirms it; Trang had connections with the Columbian military before defecting. Until we have identified the other players involved, we must stick to the ones we know. Find Gen. Trang and make sure no one pays her a visit as well tonight.”

“Right, we’re on our way.” Superboy said, and he and Kid headed for a side door.

********

August 14, 2010 - Annapolis, MD

Trang Residence

00:27:20

Ms. Martian: I know my grasp of Earth history is based mostly on TV shows, but why would a North Vietnamese general be in a photograph with USC personnel?

The four heroes stood on the shoulder of a winding road that snaked around a hill. The neighborhood, if you could call it that, was made up of palatial estates, each of which occupied a hilltop and were widely spaced out. They observed Gen. Trang’s home, a sprawling mansion on a hilltop in a fusion Asian style with terra cotta roofs and raised up on stilts to get it off the uneven terrain. 

Robin: Good question. She defected in 1974, so she was still in the PVA then. General Trang’s income doesn’t remotely cover a mega-mansion in the States. Let’s just say, she’s not collecting her military pension from Vietnam.

The Girl Wonder was consulting her holographic interface. They had only just arrived and were scoping the place out. Superboy focused his super vision, focusing on the infrared spectrum so he could see into the darkened building. It wasn’t X-ray vision, but it would show warm bodies at least. Since the house was cool in the night air, he swiftly found its sole occupant.

Superboy: I’ve got eyes on Trang. She’s in her study, looks like, having a nightcap.

Kid Quick: Kind of late for the old girl, isn’t it?

Ms. Martian: Maybe she has trouble sleeping?

Superboy tuned out the chatter, his attention focusing on something. Infrared vision was inaccurate; people were just brightly colored blobs at this distance, but he could focus on Trang and began to interpret what he was seeing. She was seated, occasionally bringing her hand to her face. Taking a drink, clearly. But her other hand kept waving expressively, and her head went back and forth. Suspicious, he also opened up his hearing.

A voice reached his ears, in a language other than English. His mind palace swiftly provided the answer and he was delighted to discover another language Cadmus had implanted; Vietnamese. Excited, he listened in but was still confused. Trang was the only heat blob he could see in the room.

“I know why you are here.” Trang was saying, a raspy voice that spoke of a lifetime of smoking. “I still have my resources.” She took another sip of her drink.

Superboy’s brow furrowed in confusion.

Superboy: She’s talking to someone, but she’s the only one I see on infrared. 

Ms. Martian: I’ll take a closer look.

The Martian girl put her hood up and turned on her camouflage, and the only reason he knew she was still there was that her heat showed up on infrared vision. It was much more muted though, and if he wasn’t watching the whole time he would have lost her against the terrain as she flew towards the house. She was just slipping through the open door of a balcony when Trang spoke again.

“I know about Mason, and I know your work.” Trang continued after her drink.

Superboy froze in shock. He strained his ears, trying to figure out who Trang was talking to. He shared the info with the team.

“But I am disappointed, Rako.” Trang stated. “I have protected you since you were a child. Have you no loyalty?”

“I do.” Said another voice and Superboy turned to the others in shock.

Superboy: There’s someone else in there! I can’t see him in the infrared!

Ms. Martian: I’m on it!

Superboy saw her speed up and aim for the open balcony door. Then he heard the other voice speak again.

“Just not to you. Farewell, General. This has been… a long time coming.” The voice said, and he heard a new sound that set his teeth on edge. An ultrasonic hum that struck at his ears and set his teeth on edge. He was already moving before he heard Ms. Martian’s warning. 

Ms. Martian: There’s a man with a sword!

Superboy didn’t waste anymore time; he gathered himself and leapt, flying through the manicured bamboo forest around the mansion, desperately hoping he was still in time.

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