Night in New York City. Police Commissioner Daniel Webb gazed out his window into the inky darkness. He left his window open out of habit. In days gone by it was the usual entrance for his long time friend, the man he knew only as the Hunter.
With a weary sigh, Commissioner Webb returned to his desk and thumbed through the open folder before him. His brown hair had turned mostly white by now. Over thirty years on the force will do that to you.
Ten of his police officers were now missing. The latest four mysteriously disappearing while on guard duty. Even worse, the whistle-blower they had been guarding was killed. The government's case against the Scatucci's had taken a serious blow and was on the verge of collapse. The long time law enforcement officer tried to make sense of it all. It was at times like these when Webb really missed his old friend. This was his kind of case.
"Good evening, Commissioner."
Startled, Webb spun in his chair towards the open window. That was the usual greeting Hunter used to give. Could it be? Were the stories of Hunter's demise only a ruse?
The momentary hope that had arisen inside the Commissioner was quickly dashed. Standing before the open window was a woman. She was unusually tall and dressed in a magenta and gray costume. A dark blue cape billowed about her in the evening breeze. Her hair was shoulder length and black in color. He also realized that it was a woman's voice that had called out to him, not that of a man.
"My father always spoke highly of you," the costumed woman stated as she tentatively eased to the front of the Commissioner's desk. There was a trace of nervousness in her voice.
"Your father?" The Commissioner ran through the implications for a moment. "You're Hunter's kid?"
"Yes, sir. You can call me the Huntress."
"We had heard rumors about you, but nothing concrete."
"I've been trying to avoid publicity," the Huntress answered. "But upon hearing about the manner in which Jimbo Portonni met his demise, I though you might need some extra help. Hence I am here to offer my assistance."
Commissioner Webb leaned back in his chair and considered the situation. He wasn't aware that Hunter had a child. Of course, there wasn't much that he really did know about the mysterious man. Webb never asked about such personal details and Hunter never offered any. Whoever he was out of costume, Hunter was certainly old enough to have a full grown daughter.
"I understand you might be reluctant to put the same level of trust in me that you had with my father. But, I am trying to carry on his work. All I ask is a chance to prove myself."
"I never knew Hunter had a kid," Commissioner Webb finally stated as he eyed the costumed woman. So far she hadn't made any threatening moves and seemed as nervous about the whole situation as he was.
"My father valued his privacy, sir. While he may not have shown it, he also valued your friendship and trust. And he also said that you should switch to de-cafe and cut back on the sweets."
The comment brought a chuckle out of Commissioner Webb. "That sounds like the Hunter I knew. Alright, for your father's sake, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt." Shuffling the papers back in the folder, Webb handed them to the Huntress. "Tell me what you make of this." Since his own detectives hadn't turned up much, he really didn't have much to lose showing it to Hunter's offspring.
Accepting the folder, the Huntress eagerly consumed the information within. As she did so, Commissioner Webb poured himself another cup of coffee.
"This is most unusual."
"That's an understatement," Webb responded as he swirled cream and sugar into his java.
"Based on your security cameras, the officers guarding Portonni were somehow overpowered by the previously missing police officers." Several hidden security cameras had been in operation at the hotel where Portonni was being sequestered. A series of photos had been made from the tapes. "It's like they were somehow controlled. Perhaps mind control. This man here--", the Huntress displayed the picture in question and pointed to one of the people in it, "--he's not a police officer. Have you turned up any leads on him?"
"His name is Gratz and he has a criminal record a mile long back in his native Australia. He's also quite dead. Inadvertently killed last year down under by none other than Captain Australia himself, or so the rumors go."
"He doesn't look dead to me," the Huntress countered.
"Probably a disguise to throw us off the trail of the real perp."
Replacing the items in the folder, the Huntress handed it back to Commissioner Webb. "I'll let you know what I turn up. Thank you for trusting me, Commissioner." Returning to the open window, the Huntress bounded through it and out into the night.
"Just doin' a favor for an old, departed friend," Webb muttered to himself. At this point he'd take whatever help he could get on this strange case. Even from an unproven would-be heroine.
"All things considered, pretty well. I'm not sure he trusts me all that much. Were our roles reversed, I wouldn't either. But he did let me go over the report."
"That's something, at least." Felina stretched and let out a long yawn. "You about ready to call it a night? Those tests really wore me out."
"I've got one more stop I'd like to make. Do you think you can handle it?"
"I'll be all right."
The Huntress nodded her understanding and put the car into gear. Easing her way out into traffic, Helena directed the vehicle towards the Chinatown district.
In spite of its impressive sounding name, the Golden Lotus Club was a dive. It was just one of many bars in the Chinatown district. But unlike the others, it was also the unofficial gathering place of the Dragon Lords, the enforcement arm of the Golden Dragon Tong. This criminal organization was one of the major suppliers of heroin worldwide. Locally, they dabbled in gambling, extortion, protection rackets, and other numerous criminal endeavors. Led by the mysterious White Dragon, the Dragon Lords did most of the Tong's dirty work.
The Huntress parked in an out of the way spot a block's distance from the club. She had sworn to take this particular gang down since they attempted to burn down a tenement several weeks back. However, fate kept throwing other more important tasks at the heroine. When she was able, the Huntress turned her attention back to this particular group of criminals.
Getting out of the car, the Huntress circled around the vehicle and opened the trunk. From the inside she retrieved a small, spidery-looking robot and its hand held remote controller. Opening a panel on the robot, Helena quickly punched several keys, causing the unit to spring to life.
Felina had gotten out of the Corvette as well. She eyed the strange device in her daughter's hand. "What is that supposed to be?"
"Just a little thing dad cooked up a while back. A remote controlled spy. Sit tight while I get it into position." The Huntress handed the controller to Felina and moved off a few steps. Aiming her wrist launcher towards the rooftops overhead, the Huntress fired off her climbing line. After making sure the line was secure, Helena was whisked towards the rooftops with the touch of a button.
Eyeing the remote curiously, Felina slipped back into the car. A small panel in the back of the device popped open with just a touch causing a black power cord to tumble out. Once the end of the cord was inserted into the cigarette lighter, the device flared to life.
There were two small video screens. One showed a view ahead of the little robot, the other behind. A pair of joysticks, a trackball, and several buttons filled the rest of the controller. "Seems simple enough," Felina noted as she experimented with the device.
Much of the image on the video display was obscured by the Huntress' body. However, there was enough of a picture for Felina to monitor her daughter's progress. The Huntress moved quickly, but cautiously, across the rooftops towards the Golden Lotus Club.
Finally, the Huntress reached her destination on the roof of the club. Locating a small air exhaust vent, she pried the cover off and set the little robotic spy inside. After replacing the cover, the Huntress carefully retraced her steps back to the Corvette.
"This is pretty sneaky of you, Helena," Felina observed as her daughter opened the car door and got inside again. "Placing a spy in their midst to monitor their operations." Once the Huntress was situated, Felina handed her the remote control.
"Seemed like the practical thing to do. It's better than just waiting for them to come out, tailing them, and wondering what sort of crime they might be committing." Remote in hand, Helena maneuvered the miniature spy through the airshaft. The minutes slowly passed as she searched for the proper location.
"Granted, but it is illegally gathered information. It wouldn't stand up in court."
"True, but I'm not a authorized police officer either. I have far more latitude than the NYPD when it comes to these type of things. Besides, this information wouldn't be used to prosecute anyway. For small crimes, I'd just anonymously phone in tips to the police and let them catch the perps in the act. Just doing my duty as civic-minded citizen."
"No wonder Lane had you study law," Felina rationalized. "At least you know where you stand legally." That cut both ways, Felina thought. Knowing the law was a boon to a criminal as well.
Finally, the miniature robot came upon an exhaust duct that overlooked the main bar. "This will do nicely," the Huntress noted, mostly to herself. "Very nicely indeed."
She slowly panned the camera across the bar. It was a typical busy night inside the establishment. As she had hoped, the din of the crowd had masked the spy's movements through the air ducts. The robot had a view of most of the bar area.
"That takes care of that." Pushing one of the buttons caused the robot to power down. The Dragon Lords were already long gone on their nightly tasks. No, this particular spy would have to wait until tomorrow evening to eavesdrop on the criminals' plans.
Pulling the plug out of the cigarette lighter, Helena set the remote control unit behind the passenger seat for safekeeping. Turning the key, the Huntress brought the 'Vette back to life and revved the engine. Easing out into traffic, the vehicle quickly made its way out of Chinatown and towards the distant Westchester Hills area.
An hour and a half later, Helena was curled up in her bed. The drive home passed quickly enough and after a nice hot shower she turned in for the night. However, sleep would not come easily. Her mind continued to review the information gleaned from the file Commissioner Webb had shown her.
"What we are dealing with is a criminal who can mesmerize with a glance and change into mist. And is somehow able to transfer these powers on to those in his thrall. If I didn't know better, I say that we're dealing with a vampire." Helena chuckled at her own observation. Vampires did not exist; her rational mind told her that. They were fairy tales to frighten children. They did not exist. Or did they?
That realization made Helena sit upright. There were many things that a rational person would consider to be sheer fantasy. Magic for instance, and yet she had already met several mages. Her Enchantress teammate on the Avengers for one. There was also Willow Witch, Aureole, and Kor Hunter from the Circle, an organization where fledgling mages were tutored. Magic was real, yet unexplainable.
Then there were the real monsters in the world. Things beyond rational explanation and yet undeniably existing. There was the four armed monstrosity known as Grond. The enigmatic being known only as 'The Monster'. The Demoness who ruled over the Hellraisers, a band of supernaturally styled villains. Even demonic creatures such as the recently defeated Crimson Claw who tried to precipitate an invasion from a lower dimension. Given all these facts was it really that hard to accept the concept of vampirism?
Helena could no longer be certain. Throwing her covers off, Helena got up and quietly made her way downstairs so as not to disturb Felina. Helena wouldn't be getting any sleep this night without a few answers to her nagging questions. Perhaps the Hunter had information about such things stored in his database.
Fingers flying across the keyboard, Helena searched for the information she sought on Hunter's Computer. The system was a HE-3000, one of the more advanced systems on the market from Henderson Electronics. Of course, it was now probably not as top of the line as it had been when Hunter installed it. "I'll have to get together with Jess when she gets back in town and see where I stand computerwise. It might be time for an upgrade."
It took time to navigate Hunter's overly complex set up. Helena concentrated on files stored in the 'Unexplained' directory. Eyes wide open, Helena read through a particularly gruesome case.
"This is incredible! People being killed in subways and their cleaned bones being found in upper floors of skyscrapers! It sounds like something you'd see on the late show."
Digging deeper, the file concluded that the perpetrator was actually an imprisoned beast that had escaped from confinement. The creature was finally defeated by an armored hero by the name of Photon. According to information provided by Sargon, a magical teammate of Hunter on the Avengers, Photon was the current possessor of the Armor of Astegor, whatever that was. (Editor's Note: All of this occurred in Troubleshooters #1-3)
Hunter noted about Photon that, 'He is devoted to his task of hunting down and slaying monsters. Things that really shouldn't exist outside of a child's nightmare and yet, inexplicably, do." The file went on to relate several instances where Hunter had consulted with Photon about unusual cases. It even listed an 800 number where Photon could be reached.
Helena leaned back in her chair, hand on her chin as she tried to digest the information before her. "On the one hand this is all so hard to believe. It's just-- not-- logical. But on the other hand, there is hard evidence to the contrary. I guess I'm only going to believe this if I find out for myself..."
Shutting the system down, Helena quickly changed into her Huntress costume and searched Hunter's stores of gadgets. There was something that she had spotted in her earlier searches, but never really knew what they were for until now. Locating the proper bin, the Huntress pulled out several crossbow shafts. But these had been modified, the wooden tips honed to a razor sharp point.
"Wooden stakes," the Huntress mused as she considered the weapons. "Better safe than sorry." A half-dozen of the modified shafts went into the bolt holder on her left hip. Once secured, the Huntress returned to Hunter's Corvette, started up the engine, and was off into the night again.
The Four Seasons Hotel was located on East 57th Street between Madison and Park Avenue. It stood fifty-two stories high and was the tallest hotel in the city. Most travel guides gave it five stars for its beautiful public areas and understatedly elegant room accommodations. Rooms on the upper floors even had a view of Central Park.
Parking the Corvette and activating its security system, the Huntress eyed the tall structure. She moved the night sight lenses concealed in her mask over her eyes to provide better vision. "This is where it all took place. Maybe I can find a few clues the police missed in their searches." The penthouse suite Portonni occupied was no doubt still a crime scene, meaning that it had been undisturbed and might still hold, as of yet undiscovered, evidence.
Using her wrist launcher to full advantage, the Huntress quickly made her way up the outside of the building in a series of swings and climbs. The heroine rose higher and higher into the overcast night. With one last swing, she reached the balcony the police report indicated Portonni had leaped from. The Huntress surveyed the New York skyline some fifty-two stories above ground.
"Talk about a room with a view." Gingerly, she looked down towards the street. The streetlights looked like dots of light from this height. No other details could be made out, even with her night sight lenses. "That is a long way down."
Pulling tools out of her gadget belt, the Huntress searched the balcony vainly for clues. Not finding anything, she slid open the glass door and entered the penthouse itself. All was quiet. No lights were on, but that was not a hindrance with her special lenses in place.
Quietly, the Huntress searched the penthouse. Nothing appeared out of place or suspicious. There were no signs of a struggle or of foul play of any kind. Undaunted, the heroine made her way to the hallway outside the suite. It had been the place where the on duty police officers had been taken. Perhaps something could be found there.
The hallway was empty, but the overhead lights were on. Sliding her night sight lenses back up into her mask, the Huntress crept in the hallway. She mentally tried to position the people she had seen in the photos in the hallway itself. Near the spot where one of the possible vampires had stood was a small stain on the carpet. Bending down to get a closer look, the huntress discovered traces of a dark brown, sandy-like substance.
"Plain old dirt," a voice called out, startling the Huntress. Turning in the direction of the voice, the Huntress found a man in a dark blue costume with white accessories coming out of the shadows. He also carried a shield with a white star upon it. It made a most tempting target.
"Crusader!", the Huntress blurted out. "What are you doing here?" Standing up once more, the heroine looked the crime fighter in the eyes as he approached. Physically, they were about the same height.
"The same as you, I imagine. Trying to discover who killed James Portonni, preventing him from completing further testimony to the Grand Jury. Why else would anyone be sneaking around a crime scene in the middle of the night?"
"Possibly to remove evidence," the Huntress countered. Crusader was an unknown commodity to the heroine. There were times when he was unquestionably a hero and others when he crossed the line. However, he wasn't a killer like Copperhead was.
"Very good. Your father taught you well." Crusader actually seemed pleased. He casually walked to the penthouse door, opened it, and gestured for the Huntress to enter. "Why don't we retire to someplace a little more private and compare notes?"
After a pause, the Huntress accepted the invitation. "Why not. What do I have to lose?"
"The word on the street is that someone named Gratz is behind this. Supposedly, he rolled into town about a month ago and has steadily made a name for himself as an assassin," Crusader related. "So far I've been unable to track this 'Gratz' down. Word has it that he's a vampire."
"The police did a background check on Gratz," the Huntress added. "They identified him from security camera footage. He hails from Australia, but has been reported as being deceased. But he did have a long police record."
"Seemingly a dead end."
"As far as Gratz being a vampire, I have my doubts. So why are you hanging around here?", the Huntress wondered. "From the looks of it, you wrapped up your inspection long before I got here."
"As the old adage goes, sometimes 'the criminal returns to the scene of the crime'."
"And sometimes rats get caught in the trap!", an unknown voice announced, surprising both the Huntress and Crusader. The two crime fighters turned to find a patch of mist hovering near the balcony door. It slowly moved forward, coalescing as it approached into the form of a man. "I knew that if I was patient I would find at least one very promising recruit. But you've gone and provided me with two!"
"Gratz!", the Huntress hissed as the man took form. He was tall, but slender with a ghostly white full beard and hair that stood out against his all black grab. His eyes burned a malevolent red. Helena had to force herself to not stare into those magnetic orbs and become mesmerized by them. "He really is a vampire!", she realized.
"My reputation proceeds me." The criminal grinned widely as he bowed before the heroes. Behind him, three more patches of mist wafted into the suite.
"What do you want here, Gratz?", Crusader questioned as he took on a more defensive stance. He too avoided the master vampire's eyes.
"It is not obvious?", Gratz countered. The Huntress noted a slight Australian accent in his voice. "Do you think me the mad, mustache twisting comic book villain? That I would simply reveal my plans to the heroes only to have them escape capture?"
"Why don't you let me connect the dots then," Crusader stated calmly. "You were a small time Aussie hood at one time. Then you were changed into this thing and left Australia."
"You probably left to avoid destruction," the Huntress added. "Captain Australia would be my guess." The momentary frown on Gratz's face betrayed him, revealing that there was a kernel of truth to reports Helena had read.
"Cap could clean just about anyone's clock," Crusader continued. "So you decided on an easier hunting ground. And what could be better than New York, a city that never sleeps. Just perfect for one of your needs. Lots of homeless that would never be missed for meals. A veritable vampire heaven."
"Becoming an assassin for hire is just a natural progression for a vampire." The Huntress picked up the narrative as the other vampires all took on human form. Each of them were former police officers before they fell into Gratz's hands. Now they were his controlled minions. "So, you went into business for yourself and recruited cops to fill out your ranks."
"Who else would know the city so well and the criminal elements within it?", Crusader inserted. "Trained in combat, they make ideal operatives. Using criminals would have been even more ideal, but then that would annoy your potential employers."
"Very good!" Gratz clapped lightly in appreciation as he strode forward, supreme confidence etched on his face. His minions just looked on like ravenous beasts waiting for their master to let them loose. "As impressive as my vampiric police officers are, just imagine if I had genuine superheroes under my control! Then I would be unstoppable!"
With a lightning fast gesture, Gratz reached out and grasped Crusader by the neck. The Huntress involuntarily took a step backwards in surprise. She drew her hand-held crossbow out of reflex. With ease, Gratz lifted Crusader off his feet. The crime fighter vainly sought release by pulling on the vampire's hands.
"Let him go, Gratz!" The Huntress punctuated her statement by firing one of her wooden stake bolts into Gratz's side. She didn't have a clear shot at the vampire's heart.
Gratz screamed in pain and dropped Crusader to the floor. "Take them, my minions! But do not kill them!" He ripped the bloody stake out of his side and violently threw it across the suite.
The minions were on the Huntress before she could even defend herself. One latched onto her right arm, the other onto the left. Try as she might, she couldn't twist herself loose from their steel-like grasp. "Their strength," the heroine thought as she desperately tried to free herself, "it's inhuman!"
The other minion latched on to Crusader and put the crime fighter into a tight arm lock. "You won't get away with this, Gratz!"
The master vampire just laughed. "But I already have, friend." Ignoring the struggling Crusader, Gratz strolled up to the Huntress, eyeing her hungrily as he did. Helena was held tight in the grasp of the two vampires, helpless. "Yes, my lovely, you will do nicely." Gratz licked his lips in anticipation.
Unexpectedly, the Huntress leaped off her feet, kicking the vampire right in the face. "I don't neck on my first date, creep!" The force of the surprise blow forced Gratz back a few steps.
Undaunted, he closed back in on the Huntress, a wolfish grin on his lips. She could feel his putrid breath on her face. "You do have spirit, my pretty one. I may even make you my consort for all eternity."
"I'll pass. I might work after dark, but I'm not a creature of the night!"
"My dear, you do not have a choice." Gratz reared his head back and bared his fangs!
