Steven eyed a nearby bench and sat down, looking up at the stars through the trees. Turning sideways on the seat, he leaned back and laid upon it, his arms folded behind his head. Wispy clouds drifted by, slightly obscuring some of the night sky as they passed.
His mind was full of conflicting ideas and thoughts, all of them struggling to reach the surface. When this happened, sleep was always far off. The night air always made him sleepy after awhile though. Tonight it might take a long while.
Steven thought about a lot of things: his situation with the Avengers, his search and desire for revenge against Artemis, which led to the problems with the Hanged Man, and his social situations with the various heroines he had met recently. His social calendar was rather busy these days. Sometimes it was so much easier when he was paranoid and tended to shy away from everyone. The start of his career with the Avengers seemed a long time ago. So much had happened in the last month. Had it really only been a month since he stood on that platform with Black Diamond and been introduced as part of the new team?
"Man, were they wrong when they said 'Time flies'," Steve said to himself. He was just beginning to feel like a true part of the team. The newness of being one of the world's most powerful and prestigious teams was just barely wearing off and he already had an offer to switch to a different team.
It was a decent offer at that. They money was incredible, even compared with the stipend he received as an Avenger. Plus he would have the opportunity to work with some of the most advanced equipment and on whatever projects he wished. Most of the time anyway. CII was not something to be sneezed at, Steven thought.
"Pity you joined your organization-- you'd fit in great with us at my company," Jessica Flynn, better known to the world as the Scarlet Sabre, commented. She intentionally avoided using the names of their respective teams. You never knew just who'd be listening. "We do pay better." The two were finishing their lunch at the Den.
"Well, they asked first," Steven responded. "Plus we do have the prestige. Nothing like playing in the big leagues, you know."
"That is true," she conceded. "But on the other hand, you don't see much big league opposition looking to trash us just for prestige."
"Good point," he answered as he finished his steak. "Although for a day or two there, I thought I might be looking for a new job." He paused to take a drink from his glass. "Couple a' times, actually."
"Why's that? Did something happen?"
"Something's always happening, Jess."
"You make it sound like you're leaving," Jessica added, explaining further.
"No, but with the nonsense with the government, who knew what would happen to the team." Steve thought back to the problems they had undergone upon losing Recognized Governmental Status. Personally, he was glad to be rid of the governmental restrictions however.
"I can see what you're getting at," Jessica said finally. "Should you ever need a change of scenery, just give me a call. I'm sure I can talk Sheryl into giving you something." Jess paused to take a sip from her diet soda. "Me, I'd like having someone around whose temperament is more similar to my own on the team. You're a lot more fun to be around than most of my co-workers. They're so serious most of the time, some down right depressing."
"Funny. I was just saying to myself that I might need a job," Steve responded with a chuckle. "Something to keep me busy. I think I have enough right now, though. Seems like there's one crisis after another. I can see why Di works so much now."
"I understand perfectly. In fact, I can talk to Sheryl, if you'd like. At least make her aware that you're out there. Unlike some teams, we don't have membership caps."
"That sounds good, Jess. I like to keep my options open. Once I get a little more settled in this town, maybe I'd be interested."
"It can be a crazy lifestyle," Jess offered empathetically.
"Yeah, and 5 million people out there would give their right arm to trade places with us," Steve added. "I can't really complain." After a brief pause, he continued, "Okay, so I can complain. I like to complain, actually." Jessica snickered at his comment.
"So, what's it like being two famous people?", Steve asked, changing the subject.
"It's not that bad actually... Jessica Flynn is only known in certain circles."
"Yeah, a few rectangles too."
The offhanded comment made her smile, but roll her eyes. "It's not like I'm a movie star or anything. I would imagine that common folks think I'm some sort of stuffy computer nerd."
"Even computer nerds need heroes. And there is a certain amount of prestige that comes from both identities," Steve countered.
Jessica considered his comment for a moment. "I suppose that's true," she finally answered. "My life has changed so much these last few years, that I still sit back and shake my head in wonder at times."
"I know where you're coming from," Steve agreed. "I've only been like this for a few months."
"Oh, I know all about you," Jessica responded shrewdly. "I try to keep track of all co-workers with Jaime's help," she further explained. "It can be very handy and gives me an edge. As the saying goes, 'a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing'."
"I bet."
"That's how I figured out your identity," Jessica continued. "Since you came from Chicago, I ran a comparison of those students I lectured at MIT in '84 with those who found jobs in Chicago." She paused for a moment, letting her accomplishment sink in. "It was a short list of twenty-two names. Logically, you had to be one of those men."
"Very astute," Steve conceded. "I'm just glad you're on my side."
Jessica was an interesting character, Steve thought. Despite the fact that her personality could be so different at times, the two were becoming friends. They had so much in common it was hard not to.
He felt comfortable around her. It was easy to be himself, much like it was with Firestar. Although, he was much closer with Cassie.
"At least I don't have to watch myself around Jess, like I did with Cassie," Steven reasoned. He could joke around and even flirt with the scarlet hued heroine without feeling self-conscious or embarrassed, since she was older and their relationship had no romantic connotations to it. With their duel of swords now out of the way, Steve could truly feel at ease around her.
The same couldn't be said of his other female friends and acquaintances. "I may need to find myself a regular girlfriend again," Steven mused, as he continued to stare into the night sky. "It seems like I find myself interested in almost every heroine I run into these days. Must have something to do with the uniforms. Maybe I need to start taking some cold showers or something," he said to himself with a half-hearted chuckle. He was almost serious about the comment.
At least he had managed to deal with his feelings for Firestar to his own satisfaction. Not that it had been easy. He still cared for her a great deal. And she was going through a great many problems at the moment. While Steven didn't feel responsible for them, he did feel obliged to do what he could to help. He just wasn't sure how.
"At least the training sessions have gone well so far," he thought to himself. "At the very least I can wear her out so much, she doesn't think about leaving the team anymore." Steven thought that if Firestar were to leave at this point, he may just resign his spot as well. He truly hoped it didn't come to that.
That thought wouldn't sit too well with the rest of the team either, he figured. "I'd hate to have to tell Di that one. I'll just have to make sure Cassie sticks around." But since Black Diamond had returned from her injuries inflicted by Artemis, Firestar had seemed much more upbeat than she had been.
Linda was an issue all her own. Muskateer found himself thinking back to the comments she made on their date. Steven enjoyed their time together more than he admitted. She was a different person when she wasn't Black Diamond. Quieter. Almost vulnerable. And she certainly cut a striking figure. And yet...
"Do I really look that different from anyone else?", Linda had asked that night. He hadn't thought much of it at that point. Di was just Di. She had been doing the hero gig for so long, that it was easy to take her for granted. At the same time, she was something of a legend almost.
Since then though, he found himself thinking more about the differences between someone like Black Diamond and even himself, who was technically considered a mutate. It wasn't a pervading issue with him, but it was there in the back of his mind. He was also somewhat embarrassed to admit that the difference in their physical strengths bothered him greatly. Not in their day to day interaction, but in an intimate setting most certainly.
Steven frowned and hoped he wasn't throwing something potentially good away just because of a couple of 'technical difficulties'. "Man, woman troubles are bad enough without all of the extra baggage superheroing brings."
Now his mind kept wandering to another of his female teammates: Gwen. She was absolutely incredible: beautiful, sexy, intelligent, caring, wealthy, and so far out of his league it wasn't even funny. "Why would someone like her be interested in a regular guy like me anyway?", Steven asked himself. Ever since she had asked him to the costume party this coming Saturday night, a little voice in the far back of his mind kept saying, 'Maybe she really is interested in you.' So far he had managed to ignore the voice, but it was persistent. A smile crossed his face, without him even realizing it, as he thought about the silver-haired beauty.
A red RX-7 pulled up in back of Avengers Mansion and Steven Harper stepped out of the passenger side. He walked around to the driver's side and bent down to look at the driver. "Thanks for lunch, Jess. I'll be in touch about our other plans as soon as I hear from Mr. Wonderful."
"Sounds good. Talk to ya later." Jessica Flynn hit the window switch and the tinted window raised. The car slipped into gear and roared off. Steven watched the car drive off aways and then turned to enter the mansion.
Walking in through the garage entrance, Steven passed the kitchen. "Hey, Jeeves."
"Good afternoon, Master Harper," Jeeves responded, looking up from his work.
"What's shakin'?"
Jeeves looked about for a moment, with a confused look on his face. "Shaking, sir? I am afraid I do not notice anything shaking."
"Never mind, Jeeves," Steven said, putting his hand on the older man's shoulder. "It's just a figure of speech. Anything new?"
"Ah, yes. Miss Kingston has been awaiting your arrival for some time now. I believe she said she would be in the English Conservatory tending to the flowers."
"Great," Steven said, "I was just about to go looking for her myself." He was anxious to get Gwen involved in the Hanged Man escapade that was underway. There was no time like the present. "Thanks, Jeeves."
"Good day, sir."
Steven made his way to the third floor of the Avengers Mansion. Sunlight poured in through the large windows of the greenhouse. The place hardly looked like it had been heavily damaged just two short weeks ago when Dark Seraph attacked. The rows of flowers and shrubs were blooming nicely. Numerous pleasing scents filled the air.
Steven wandered in and looked around. He quickly noticed Gwen. She was watering a long row of rose bushes. She didn't notice him approach at first as she was humming to the soft, soothing music which filtered in through the overhead speaker system.
He watched her silently as she tended to the plants. After a moment, he walked closer. "Hey, good lookin'. Jeeves said you were lookin' for me..."
"Why, hello there, Steven," Gwen said, turning to face her teammate. "I thought today would be a good day to coordinate our costumes for the party on Saturday night. I didn't know that you had made other plans." Gwen wiped the loose dirt from her apron and pulled off her gardening gloves.
"Frankly, I didn't expect to have other plans after the training session with Firestar myself. It just kinda came up all of a sudden."
"Ah, yes, I see. And where have you been, if you don't mind me prying?"
"Well, the Scarlet Sabre came by to run some system checks on the Combat Simulator. Then we ended up having our long overdue duel," Steve explained.
"Duel?", she asked. "What duel is that?" Gwen began storing her gardening tools and equipment as they chatted.
"It came up after the VIPER caper with Diamond. We got to talking about swords and stuff and our egos got in the way."
"I can see how that could be a problem," she agreed.
"Hey! You didn't have to agree so quickly."
"I meant no offense," Gwen responded apologetically. "You and Scarlet are most similar people in many ways. Who won this duel?"
"Let's just say that she had to buy lunch," Steve answered proudly.
"Then congratulations are in order." She finished storing her gardening tools. "Do you think you'll have a chance to show me this party outfit of yours?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I wanted to talk to you about a job that Red and I are working on anyway. Maybe we could kill two birds with one stone..."
"Something has come up for which you need my assistance?", Gwen asked.
"You could say that. We have a new plan in our Artemis-Hanged Man search. It's important that we locate or track him, without him knowing it. So far no one's been able to figure out a way around his technological toys," Steven explained.
A sly smile formed on the heroine's perfect features. "What you're saying is that you require magic to foil his gadgets, since you are unable to circumvent them by 'normal' means."
Steven was silent for a moment. "Okay, okay, I know where you're going with this one. Before we get into another science vs. magic debate, are you in, or not?" Steven gestured impatiently as he spoke.
Gwen continued to smile, a capricious look on her face. She rubbed her chin in mock thoughtfulness. "Gee, I don't know. I mean poor little ole me with all you high-tech heroes..."
"Okay, if you're not interested..." Steven turned and began to walk away. "And you said we never include you in anything. Maybe I was just asking 'cause it'd be nice to have you around, but oh no. Not interested in any of that scientific stuff, she says..." He turned around as he reached the door to see her reaction.
Gwen hadn't moved from the spot but her arms were akimbo, her head cocked slightly to the side, and one eyebrow was arched forming an irritable look. "So now who's being the coy one?", she said, slightly miffed. "From the sound of it, you need me and you know it."
Muskateer considered her statement for a moment. "And you're not going to be happy until you hear me say it, right?"
Gwen crossed the distance between them, her mood softening. "Don't be silly." She took him by the hand. "As long as you know it, I'll save you the embarrassment of having to say it out loud." She was smiling again as she led him out of the greenhouse by the arm. "You can tell me all about it, while you're changing into your costume for the party."
"...bein' delivered tomorrow evening, so we don't have much time to prepare," Steven called from the bathroom of his quarters as he changed into his costume for the ball. "I wasn't expecting him to finish the armor so quickly. Cost me a big chunk o' cash too. I hope this works out, or I'll be really PO'd."
"What exactly is my role in this endeavor?" Gwen paced out in the bedroom as she listened to her teammate's story.
"Scarlet said that HM has some kinda remote sensors that he uses to monitor things. We either need to capture one or follow it back to its source. That's pretty much the gist of it."
"That is my task then? To capture one of these remote sensors?" It certainly wasn't the sort of task the Enchantress was expecting.
"Yeah, the remotes always flew the coop when Scarlet was looking for them before. They may be rigged to self-destruct as well. We can't let it know that it's been captured or followed."
"Are you certain that the three of us are enough for this adventure?", Gwen asked. "From what you're telling me, you don't even know exactly what one of these remote sensors look like."
"Actually, no." Steve hesitated for a moment, knowing that his next words could be inflammatory at the least. "I asked the Huntress to help us too." He cringed as he said it. Gwen and Helena were not on the best of professional terms. He was met by silence from the other room.
"Now, Gwen, I know what you're thinking." Actually he had no idea what she was thinking. "I had my difficulties with her myself. She does grow on you." Now finished dressing, he placed the cavalier hat and black half mask on and opened the door, stepping into the bedroom.
Gwen mumbled something that he didn't hear. He thought better of asking her about it. "So what do you think?"
"That is certainly a most unique look," she said as she regarded the garish leather and lace costume with a Renaissance look to it.
"You don't like it either huh?" Steven looked at himself in the mirror. "Believe it or not, I actually am starting to like it." He looked over at her. "Well, a little anyway."
"I wouldn't say that I dislike it," Gwen said as she circled him, taking in the costume from all sides. "But I must admit, this is two bombshells you've dropped on me in the last few seconds."
Steven chuckled slightly. He was glad that she was taking it so well. Of course, she was too refined to make an issue of it. "Hey, at least I didn't wait until the last moment to tell you about Helena. Or show you this, huh?"
Gwen stepped back. Crossing one arm over her shoulder and the other moving to the side of her face, she regarded Steve's attire with a sigh.
"Everyone's a critic. Look you can blame this little girl with green hair down at Super Starz. I bought it to make her stop talking."
"Right. Let's get down to business here," Gwen stated. "Something to match this costume..." She concentrated for a moment and then gestured.
Half an hour later, after much trial and error, Gwen finally settled on an outfit which met her approval. It was similar to Steven's in style, but much more feminine, with more lace and golden embroidered trim. The pants, boots and gloves were white, with a scarlet red jacket.
"What do you think?" Gwen spun about, showing off her creation. As she did another change came over her.
"Did your hair just turn color?", Steven asked, blinking. Blonde tresses had replaced her previous silver hair color. "Neat trick. I like it. Not what I would have expected from you, but you did say you were full of surprises."
"Thank you for the compliment." Gwen looked at her reflection in the mirror. "Yes, yes, this will do nicely. As for the hair, it's Gwen's actual color."
"Then who would you be?"
"No, silly, I just mean that since I am attending the ball as Gwen, I should look like her."
Steven was confused. "You don't normally look like... you?"
"Why do you wear a mask?"
"So I can say all the corny things I say and still keep a straight face?"
"Why do you really wear a mask?", Gwen replied in a mildly annoyed tone.
"Okay, I get ya. It helps to put me into the Muskateer persona."
"It also conceals your true identity, does it not?"
"Good point. It's not like I would be recognized from Adam, but you're a lot more in the public's eye. I always wondered why you didn't wear a mask. But is a change of hair color enough to keep anyone from identifying Gwen Kingston as the Enchantress?"
"It goes much deeper than a simple difference in the shade of my hair. In truth, the Enchantress looks physically different than Gwen does."
Steven eyed her warily. "Other than the hair color, you look pretty much the same to me. I've always had a good memory for faces."
It was Gwen's turn to be slightly puzzled. "Now that is odd..." She cast another spell and Gwen's image in the mirror changed into the familiar garb of the Enchantress. Turning, Gwen, still in the white party costume, stood beside her heroic reflection. "Are you sure that we are identical?"
Muskateer moved closer and examined both Gwen and the image of the Enchantress. Other than hair style and hue, it was the same person. "I'm positive."
"Most remarkable..." Gwen pulled out her communicator and spoke into it. "Jeeves?"
A moment later came the reply, "Yes, Madame?"
"Would you please come to Muskateer's quarters?"
"At once."
"Thank you." Gwen replaced her communicator and turned towards Steven. Catching his guarded look, she continued her explanation. "I use subtle illusions to conceal my identity. By all rights, Gwen and the Enchantress are dissimilar enough in appearance to be two separate people. Somehow, other than cosmetic changes, you are able to see my true features."
"Now that's pretty weird," Steven responded, trying to imagine the implications. "So hypothetically, what you're saying is that you look differently to different people? For instance, Di would recognize you as the Enchantress, but not as Gwen?"
"That would be a fairly accurate assessment." Gwen couldn't understand just how this could be. Only other magicians could pierce her illusionary identity. This only reinforced her belief that Steven was special.
A knock on the door announced that Jeeves had arrived. Steven opened the door and showed the servant in. "This'll only take a moment, Jeeves. Just a little experiment we're running."
"I understand, sir," Jeeves answered. He showed absolutely no reaction to the outlandish costumes currently worn by Steven or Gwen. "How may I be of service?"
"Nothing complicated," Steve announced in a reassuring tone. "Just compare what you see in the mirror to my friend here."
"I see the image of the Enchantress in the mirror and Miss Kingston standing beside it."
"Do they look alike at all?"
"No, sir. I would have to assume that they are two different people. Magic in action, I must conclude."
Both Steven and Gwen appeared to be puzzled. "Thank you for your time, Jeeves," Gwen finally said. "You may return to your duties."
Jeeves bowed and departed the room. Once the door was closed, Steve spoke. "So what gives anyway?"
"I'm not totally sure..."
Steve had finally made up his mind, or so he told himself. After all at the dinner party she threw for the rest of the team she expressed her desire to get to know everyone better. This would just be a continuation of that. And Gwen had already said it herself: she was going to enjoy trying to figure out the man known to the world as Muskateer. "I must seem as different to her, as she does to me sometimes."
That problem seemingly solved, he turned his attention to the situation with Artemis and the Hanged Man. The whole affair had mushroomed into a royal pain in the butt. Helena didn't take the idea of him working behind her back too well. She complained for a time, but eventually did go along with the idea. (Editor's Note: See Huntress #11)
The two members of the Overlords eyed their unsuspecting quarry standing alone at the corner up ahead. They had been given this job by Buckshot, the leader of the Overlords, himself. Word was that the Hanged Man wanted this mark smoked. The gang members fingered the new weaponry that had been supplied to them. The rest of the gang members were waiting just across the street, around the corner. Their driver was sitting a block away up the street.
They closed in on their unsuspecting victim. Apparently, he was expecting a delivery from the Hanged Man. The only thing that would be delivered was the fool himself, in a pine box.
"Hey, buddy!" The two walked up to their mark as he turned to face them.
"We have a delivery for you," the other said.
"Sorry, but I didn't order a pizza," their target responded. The remark didn't sit well with them. They'd be more than happy to smoke this clown.
"Very funny."
"You want the armor or not."
"I guess I forgot to mention that I wanted it to be full-size," the man on the corner said, eyeing the two gang members. "Are you hiding it in your pocket or what?"
"You a real funny guy." The thugs glared at him. "You some kinda comedian or something? Ain't he a riot?"
"You could say that. So where is it?"
"Over there. The building across the street." The man pointed briefly in that direction. The three men crossed the deserted street and stepped up to the door.
The man who was getting the delivery looked up at the disheveled old building. It had clearly seen better times. Long ago. "I wasn't expecting the Waldorf Astoria, but you'd think with as much as I paid your boss, he'd have a nicer lookin' showroom."
"Just get inside." One of the men unlocked the door and stepped inside. Their victim then walked in followed by the other man.
A portion of the inside of the building had collapsed, making the ground floor seem all the more spacious. It looked like the rest of the building would come down at any moment.
"Are you sure it's safe in here?", the victim asked.
There was no reply, as the two gang members moved off into the shadows. A single light flickered on up ahead. A large rectangular crate sat in the middle of the lighted area. The man walked half way to it and stopped. "This is it, I presume? You guys gonna help me carry it outside?"
Again there was no response. However, something appeared over the crate, an image much like someone trying to tune in a TV station. It was fuzzy at first, but rapidly increased in clarity.
The image took the form of a black robed executioner, a deep hood concealing its face. It was two-dimensional and flickered every few seconds as the projection was refreshed.
"The Hanged Man, I assume?"
The hologram answered in a heavy baritone voice: "I am."
"Great. My armor's in the crate then?"
"The crate is empty," the hologram answered. "You are trying to deceive me-- something I do not tolerate."
The victim took a step back. "What are you talking about?"
"I run extensive checks on my prospective customers. I can place the real Timothy J. Brown to within five minutes of the phone call with which you placed your order. He was eighteen miles away. Clearly, you lied to me. You will find your money inside the crate. Our business is concluded."
"Hey, wait a minute--!" The hologram of the Hanged Man disappeared as quickly as it appeared. "Damn it, damn it, damn it!"
"Other than holding your cash, the crate has another use," another of the gang called out. As he did, several others stepped out of the shadows. They all pulled their weapons and aimed at their unfortunate victim.
"Yeah, it's your casket, man."
The man looked around at the array of high-tech weaponry. "You mean to tell me that you're just gonna kill me now?"
"Pretty much. Then the cash is all ours." The gang member who had led the victim into the building opened fire. A bright flash was followed by a red beam launched out of the weapon. The man fell to the ground and the crate exploded as the blast carried on into it. The gang members began to congratulate each other on the ease with which they carried out their mission.
"We better get outta here. Wally, call Slimy. Grab the cash, Slick." As the gang member pulled out a cell phone to contact the get away driver, he suddenly stopped in mid-dial.
One of the men standing next to Wally turned to see what he was looking at. "Hey, George! Ya didn't kill 'im."
All the gang members who had been heading to the door quickly turned around and pulled their weapons. "Somebody get that sucker."
The man they had tried to kill was now on his feet; Slick held off the ground by his throat. Somehow the deadly blast had missed him completely. "You know, you guys could use a lesson in manners. And no you can't have my money, even if you say please." He threw Slick against a far wall and moved forward, avoiding laser blasts as he approached. The gang scattered as he leapt into their midst.
A flying kick sent one of the gang members flying through the plate glass front window. He landed on his back on the sidewalk amid a shower of glass shards. Grabbing the next man, Steven pummeled him three times in a quick flurry.
"Die, karate man!" The thug opened fire wildly, spraying the area with laser fire. Blasts ripped through the walls of the building.
"Sheesh, if these guys could aim, they'd be dangerous," Steven mumbled to himself. There were too many of them left to stay in one place. They could easily outflank him, once they thought of it. Hopefully, Helena and Jess would be in soon.
Moving from cover to cover, Steven stayed one step ahead of his assailants. They continued to shred the various items he used for protection with their devastating firepower.
Steven chanced a quick glance around the pillar he stood behind. He saw Helena move in behind one of the shooters. She was dressed not as the Huntress, but in a skin-tight all-black body suit. She dropped the man with a quick snap kick to the back of the neck.
"Hey! The guy's got a friend." The two nearby thugs turned to see Helena arrive on the scene.
"Waste her!", one yelled. The other turned to fire again at Steven, who used the diversion to go on the move again. The thug who had yelled had Helena square in his sights. Lights flared on the gun and... nothing happened.
"Looks like your little toy is out of batteries," Helena said with a smirk.
The thug squeezed the trigger a few more times, to no avail. "What's with this stupid thing!? Must be..." Helena cartwheeled at the man and body slammed him to the concrete floor. A quick karate chop to the throat put him away.
Nearby, Steven closed the gap on a gunman. Lifting a small slab of concrete over his head, he flung it at the thug and rushed him. The man fired wildly at the incoming missile, turning it into something similar to Swiss cheese. Somehow, the shooter had managed to hit Steven on his approach as well. The last blast hit him square in the chest.
Steven stopped in his tracks upon impact. It turned out that surprise had caused his halt rather than the damage from the device. The gunman seemed just as surprised by this turn of events.
The two looked at each other for a moment, each gauging the short distance between each other. The gunman fired again and hit the Avenger in the shoulder. Again, Steven didn't even feel it. The beam focused on him to no effect. With a look of surprise and alarm, the thug fired the weapon at a nearby desk. It had no effect on that as well. He looked up just in time to see Steven's fist slam into his face.
Helena and Steven met in the center of the room. "Glad to see you could make it," Steve quipped. They looked around at the damage all around them.
"Traffic was bad. You know how it is."
A moment later, Jessica Flynn, dressed in an outfit that matched Helena's, appeared on the scene dragging a fallen gang member behind her as she went. "Looks like this plan turned out to be a snafu."
"Yeah," Steven agreed, "these guys were packing some heavy firepower. At least while it worked." The hero commonly known as Muskateer picked up one of the blasters and eyed it as he spoke.
"A common tactic of the Hanged Man," Jessica answered. "Most of his weapons are powerful, but can fail at the most inopportune moment. Inopportune to the user that is. At least from what we've seen before."
"What good would it do to sell sub-standard equipment?", Helena asked.
"If the creeps with the heavy hardware get caught, who are they going to complain to? The police?" Steven walked over and leaned on a nearby pillar that was partially destroyed. He let out a long sigh.
"Yeah, I doubt that he cares about his BBB rating," Helena said with a chuckle.
After a moment of contemplation, Steven quickly turned and punched the pillar, shattering the upper portion of what remained. "This guy is really starting to piss me off." At least he got his cash back.
Steven stood up again and continued his stroll through the park. Helena was another one that he had been having problems with on and off since they first met. He started off not liking her very much.
Since that time, they had earned each other's respect. The Huntress had some talents and skills that were very useful. Only now he found himself competing with her. That was part of the reason he went off on his own to work on the Hanged Man case. He wanted to solve things without her help. Show her that he could play her game. So far it wasn't working.
Not that he had ever shied away from a challenge before. Steven enjoyed being the underdog. This Hanged Man was a paranoid SOB. "Ah well," he thought, "tomorrow is another day..."
Steven was suddenly shaken from his reverie by a presence close behind. Somehow, someone had managed to sneak up on him, without him realizing it. He felt a hard object pressed against the small of his back.
"Stick 'em up," a gruff voice said.
