The Angel of Chicago

Part Seven: Contusions

by

Rodford Edmiston

The dark figure emerged silently from one of the deeper shadows and quickly stepped into the open space his informant's diagram had revealed. The following ambush was sudden and thorough, but not unexpected.

Blackpool had gone into this knowing his source might be compromised. The magnitude and ferocity of the response still surprised him. First, bright lights eliminated all large shadows. Assailants unseen in the glare immediately fired stun rounds at him. Both tactics were not new to him, even in combination, but the intensity of the lights and number of people attacking were.

He spun out of the way, then did a diving roll into a leap, his outfit protecting him long enough to reach one of his attackers. The man went down immediately. Blackpool threw the attacker's rifle at one opponent and the shooter at another. The first target went down, and was probably out of the fight. The second dodged. Blackpool spun again then leapt, his billowing outfit disguising his actual direction of travel for just a moment as he dove behind the one who had dodged. Because of that, the others held their fire for fear of hitting one of their own. That meant no-one was shooting just then.

This gave Blackpool enough time and room for his escape. He threw a smoke grenade straight up. It was impact fused, and went off even as it smashed one of the floodlights mounted around the top of the wall. That gave him enough shadow for an exit. However, as he dove through there was a massive explosion behind him.

They were willing to sacrifice their own people to try and kill me when they saw I was escaping, he realized, in the brief moment before hitting the far wall of the corridor he had moved into. Fortunately, he had intended the portal to close immediately behind him anyway, so the blast cut off after doing no more than heavily stunning him.

* * *

Before leaving her at the cabin the night before, Arielle had invited Melody to "a home-cooked breakfast" at her father's home in the morning. When she arrived the food was almost ready. However, Arielle informed the reporter that Aaron had already left.

"He said he had important business in Chicago, but I suspect that was a subterfuge. Dad hopes leaving us alone will help us bond. He really wants me to, well, not be alone. Like he is..."

That last was said softly and sadly, in a sudden downturn of mood.

Breakfast was quiet, even sombre. Arielle could tell that Melody had something on her mind. However, she waited until the dishes were in the sink before confronting her.

"Okay, what's up?"

"Arielle," said Melody, quietly but seriously, turning and taking the older woman's hands. "Are you influencing me?"

"I..."

For once, the empowered woman seems flustered. She stopped, took a deep breath, then continued, calmly but sincerely.

"I don't think so," she said, looking Melody in the eyes. "Seriously, the... charisma is so much a part of me I don't always remember to suppress it. I usually do, though."

"It's something which is normally on?" said Melody, surprised.

Arielle nodded.

"It's not some power," she said. "It's... posture, attitude, expression, turn of phrase, pitch of voice... When my parents realized I'd inherited Dad's superhumanly impressive nature they very carefully schooled me in how to use it. As well as being very stern that I shouldn't use it in normal situations. Always, though, it's just... there."

Melody sat, semi-sideways in a kitchen table chair. She looked very thoughtful.

"Okay. I knew it wasn't a compulsion or mind control from my research, but that actually explains a lot."

"It's superhuman charisma," said Arielle, defensively. "We can't make people do anything they don't want to do. We're just very, very persuasive. Like I said, Dad and I both keep it on a tight leash."

"Your father is a superbly moral person," said Melody, with a touch of admiration.

"That he is. I'm not, but I try to behave in a responsible manner." She sighed. "I want to make a favorable impression on you. It's possible I fudged things a little, but I very deliberately tried not to. Even if I did it's... well, a lot like dressing and acting your best and using the right amount of makeup and perfume to court someone."

She sighed again and nervously ran a hand through her tawny hair.

"If it provides any reassurance, exposure brings resistance."

"It's just that this... is so unlike me!"

"Hah!" said Arielle. "Uhm, sorry. It's just that my Dad likes to say that it's the things we do which are unlike us which help us learn who we are."

"Okay," said Melody, who couldn't help grinning at that. She sighed, then straightened, and even managed to look eager. "What's on the agenda for today?"

* * *

John Parker was sad to see that his apartment building was a smoldering ruin, but not surprised. He had to assume these attacks were through someone at work. The evidence didn't support him being betrayed by the entire organization, though. He contemplated contacting someone else there, but given that his superior D'Arsonval was still "unavailable" he realized that whoever was behind this had enough influence to eliminate or imprison a mid-level manager at perceived need. That meant whoever was responsible might lie about him with authority, or simply know if Blackpool spoke to someone there. So, who and what did that leave?

He decided not to check on his safe deposit box. That was in his real name, after all. John doubted whoever was after him would act against the bank, but surely they had someone watching for him there.

He waited for dark, for the ambulances and firemen and investigators to leave. The fire had started in an empty apartment just below John's. Casualties had been high, because there had been no warning, which was as deliberate as the fire. The investigators already knew it was arson. Very well-planned arson. The fire had spread rapidly. Several had died, with many more were seriously injured.

Monsters.

People who would do such things were why he had become licensed, why he had signed on with the Empowered Agency. Now someone was either using Agency assets to murder people just to cut down on the resources he had, or they were someone with connections to the Agency who was using other but similar assets.

The hidden room had received little damage. All the records stored there were safe, including the negatives he had recently shot. Blackpool reached a decision. He would send copies of the most damning documents to several people in Congress, the President, several people in appropriate regulatory and law enforcement agencies and several news agencies. Flood the world with the truth. Then see who reacted, and how.

John took what he needed from the small room, then started a fire of his own. He left with the concealed door closed behind him. With the building already evacuated he wasn't endangering anyone. In fact, given that the walls were insulated and armored, the contents would likely burn out without spreading beyond.

That much of his trail covered, John stepped through shadows to an alley on the other side of the country.

* * *

Malak returned to Haven just before lunch. Arielle was in the process of giving Melody a more detailed tour of some of the town's facilities when a shadow passed over them as they walked along a street.

Melody reflexively looked up... and stared.

She had thought Melody was an impressive individual; then she had met Aaron, though before this she had only seen his human form in person. Now she found an entire new standard of impressive.

"That never gets old," said Arielle, quietly, smiling as dove-grey wings lazily carried Malak overhead.

"Wow..." was all Melody could manage.

"Come on," said Arielle, smiling as she took Melody's hand. "There's not enough room here; he'll land back at the intersection."

That he did, enormous wings spread wide and sandaled feet extended, white robes billowing in the breeze. Melody reflexively hung back, but her companion ran ahead.

"Dad!" shouted Arielle, catching him with a hug.

"Hello, my lioness!" said Malak, laughing as he briefly wrapped her in both arms and wings. Some part of the reporter's brain noted that Malak was taller than Arielle. He looked up and saw Melody. "And good day to you, too!"

"Ah, hello," said Melody, more quietly than she intended.

Perhaps sensing he was making her nervous, Malak shifted to Aaron. He - with one arm still around his daughter - walked over and shook the reporter's hand.

"I hope Arielle hasn't been tiring you out, running you all over town."

"Ah, no. We took our time. Your town is very interesting."

"I sense a 'but' there."

"But!" said Melody, with a grin. "It's not what I came here to find out about."

"All right," said Aaron, "let's get back to my place, have lunch and then see how much we can get done before supper. Hopefully there will be no interruptions, but don't hold me to that."

* * *

He was true to his word. After lunch he and Melody - with occasional participation from Arielle - spent three hours in his comfortable den going over questions about the empowered in general and a few empowered individuals specifically.

"Something just occurred to me," said Melody, as she was about to call a break. "Aaron, you were talking about how, early on, some empowered wore disguises, including costumes, but later nearly everyone dropped them as impractical. You didn't, but that's because your outfit is part of your transformation. So why are so many registered empowered required to wear costumes on the job?"

"It's the image people have in their minds," said Aaron, shrugging.

"Wait," said Arielle, startled. "My handlers have repeatedly tried to get me to wear a costume and use a code name. I still occasionally have to explain to them that those measures would make my job much more difficult. Then get an exemption when they persist."

"Because when people think of superhumans they don't think of normal clothing," said Aaron, nodding.

"Well, that's true," said Melody. "However, I think there's something else going on, here. I think they make as many of you folks as they can - and the more public a figure someone is the more they insist - wear costumes and use code names so your typical non-empowered will not see them in normal clothes, using normal names."

"Increasing the alienation," said Aaron, startled. "Argh. I should have seen that!"

"Well, Dad, in your case the clothes are pretty much irrelevant, with the wings and all," said Arielle, laughing. "No surprise you missed it."

* * *

Again, after supper that evening Melody sat down with the Labelles for conversation and coffee. However, they had barely started when Aaron's phone rang. Excusing himself he headed for the nearest extension.

The two women didn't need long to realize something was very wrong.

"Pull every one back to the edge of the town!" said Aaron. "I'll be there in seconds!"

"What's going..." said Arielle.

"Stay with Melody! The town is under attack!"

They followed him outside. However, he started changing even before reaching the door. Once outside he leapt into the air, the downblast from his wings making the two women shield their eyes.

"Wow..." said Melody, distracted by his transformation and impressive departure.

Once he was gone Melody turned to Arielle.

"Can you get me on the roof?"

"Hah! Yes, I can."

"Do you have a phone with a long cord?"

"In fact, yes. Let's go."