Disclaimer: This is the sixth chapter in a story about an "other world" based on the Arrowverse, the CW shows that focus on DC superheroes. I am writing this as my way of paying homage to my fandom for the Arrowverse. The character names Supergirl, Green Arrow, The Flash, Canary and Brainiac are trademarks of DC Comics. These chapters are free to read, they will not be published in book format, nor will any revenue be generated from the chapters. If there are legal issues involved with the usage of these characters, please email me at bwmorris at mail dot com and I will cease with the writing. Critiquing of my writing is welcomed and may be left in the comments.
I'm stretched out on the plush, brown couch in the living room, head propped up against a white pillow, smartphone in my hand, my fingers gliding over the screen. For many people, evenings like this are a time to relax.
But after what I've uncovered, I'm not thinking about relaxation.
My eyes switch from the smartphone long enough to catch up on what's being discussed on the news tonight. They're talking about our representative in Congress, Mark Gregory, and how he's scheduled to appear in Hub City in a couple of days. I voted for him -- he says all the right things, supports most of the things I believe in. Wouldn't mind meeting him face to face, to be honest.
They're talking about how Mark has some questions about this artificial intelligence that some guy from Central City is pushing for. Heard a lot about this AI, how it could root out threats before they have a chance to do any damage. As the broadcast continues, they have some comments from Mark. He has short blond hair, blue eyes and looks quite distinguished in his eyeglasses, gray suit coat and pants, white shirt and red tie.
"I get the concerns about keeping people safe," Mark says, "but if that comes at the cost of our privacy, or leads to a rise in abusive police practices, I think we need to urge more caution before moving forward."
Then they air a clip of the guy pushing for this AI. Warren Hosills is the guy's name, Frontier Technologies is his company. I've heard him talk before and something about him rubs me the wrong way. Maybe it's the way he smiles when he goes into his spiel -- it's like he's trying to sell you an insurance policy you don't need.
"We have seen an increase in school shootings, in organized crime, in terrorist threats -- you name it, our safety is threatened every day," he said. "And my father always told me if you want to deal with such things, you need to nip them in the bud."
I can't help but think that sounds a lot like my approach. After all, I'm the guy who keeps scouting around for Intergang, determined to expose their activities. But I sense that Warren is less interested in helping those in need and more interested in making a quick buck. After all, he's acknowledged the price tag for his AI idea isn't cheap, but he wants you to believe it's for the best. Like I said, it sounds like the insurance policy you don't need.
I turn my attentions back to the smartphone. Got a couple of contacts here in my hometown who keep me informed about Intergang. Investigating bad guys like Intergang is a lot like checking out my archaeological expeditions. First you have to make connections and know where you need to go. And once you're there, you dig around, take time to uncover the details. Of course, the difference is that, with an archaeological dig, you don't have to go beating up the bad guys.
At any rate, I'm checking back and forth between emails and texts. Nothing so far, but if I learn that Intergang is smuggling more weapons, I'm gonna be there to take them down. Intergang has plagued my city for too long. And I've learned you don't need some super powerful computer to track down these guys. Sometimes there's no substitute for human sources who can tell you where and when things are happening.
Pushing myself up against the pillow, I feel a dull pain in my stomach. Don't worry, the cut I got a couple of days ago wasn't too deep. My fingers move toward my belly and I can feel the stitches through my blue T-shirt.
That's when I hear my partner. "Carl, I told you not to keep touching that."
My partner Doug Grant walks around the couch. I still remember the day I first saw him -- a simple man with a lean build and dark brown hair, but oh, those brown eyes of his. Eyes that were full of life and happiness. Only now, those eyes suggest that he's going to chew my butt out if I get in trouble again.
I set my smartphone on the coffee table, shift my body to the side, prop my elbow on the couch and lean my chin against my palm. "Doug, don't worry about me. You know I'll be fine."
He shakes his head. "Yeah, you were so fine that, the other night, you came back with your stomach sliced open."
I bite my lip. That was the worst injury I had since I started my crime fighting exploits. But I'm not prepared to admit that, even to my partner. "Come on now, Doug, it wasn't that serious."
Those brown eyes of his roll back for a second. "Serious enough that you needed me to stitch you up."
I chuckle. "Well, that's why I'm glad you're trained in that sort of thing."
"Yeah, and that I wasn't working the night shift at the emergency room." Doug walks over toward the beige recliner and takes a seat. "Otherwise, you'd be stumbling into the hospital looking like a fool."
I push myself up to a seated position, pausing when I feel that dull pain in my stomach again.
Doug motions toward my midsection. "And all that moving around isn't going to help."
Taking a deep breath, I bite my lip again. I know Doug means well and I would never want to make him worry, but sometimes he's overprotective. "Look, I'm able to move around fine. But you know I can't stand by and let Intergang get away with this. You know the damage they've done, the people they've hurt."
"Carl, Intergang is dangerous. And you think that magic totem you got makes you invincible." Doug's voice starts to rise. "Well, it doesn't. And I'm worried that one of these days they're gonna hurt you so bad, you're gonna be needing a lot more than a few stitches."
I want to say something, but I notice his brown eyes again. They no longer have the look that suggests I'm in trouble. Instead, there's a hint of worry. Of fear, perhaps. It prompts me to stand up, walk over to Doug, extend my right hand and grasp his left. "I get it, Doug. You don't want anything to happen to me. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. But what would you have me do? Especially after what I've learned now."
Doug sighs. "I'm just afraid of what you might be getting yourself into. I know you want to help, but this isn't like digging up ruins in Kurac."
I place my left hand above his, doing my best to reassure him. "Digging up those ruins can be dangerous work, Doug. I've told you that. There's always a chance that something could cave in."
"Yes, but you don't go out there by yourself. You have a team with you. When you go against Intergang, you're on your own. Every time."
I'm about to say something, but I hear my smartphone beeping. My head swivels toward the table, then back to Doug.
He shakes his head again. "Go ahead. I figure there's no way I can stop you."
I stare at him for a moment. Maybe I need to forget about Intergang for one night. Give Doug some peace of mind. My head turns back to the smartphone. The tiny green light at the top flashes. That's when I remember what I heard the other night. That remark about organics being terminated. Something strange is going on. If I don't track down Intergang and learn more, I may miss out on a golden opportunity.
Releasing Doug's hand, I grab the smartphone, push the button and swipe my finger across the screen. Got a new text message. Opening it up, I read what it says:
Intergang at the West Side Warehouse. Expecting another shipment. Could be weapons, could be tech. Also, heard something about an interest in Mark Gregory. You might want to check it out.
My heart jumps. An interest in Mark Gregory. Whatever it is, it can't be good. No way can I stand by and let Intergang do whatever it wants. If they plan to go after our representative, I owe it to everyone to find out what that plan is and put a stop to it. Sure, it means putting off a night with my partner, but in the end, I'm sure he'll understand. At least, I hope he would.
Doug stands up and cocks his head. "So what's going on?"
I hold the phone up toward him. "Something about Intergang having an interest in Mark Gregory."
"The congressman?"
I give a quick nod. "Sorry, Doug, but I can't stand by now. We're talking somebody of high importance here. I need to find out what they have planned."
I stride past Doug and head down the hallway toward the bedroom. Doug and I share a small condominium -- we were never big on the idea of buying a house out on in the suburbs like other people we've known. Always wanted to keep things simple. Besides, now that I'm in the business of taking on Intergang, it's good to be staying inside the city limits.
Entering the bedroom, I flick the light switch and go to the closet. In the back is my Canary outfit -- yellow pants, matching top and jacket. Hey, I figured that if I was going to call myself the Canary, I might want to look the part. Besides, yellow is my favorite color.
Throwing off my T-shirt, I slip on the top, then sit down on the bed, kick off my sneakers, unfasten my belt and push my jeans off. Grabbing the pants, I pull them on, then put the sneakers back on my feet.
Standing up, I walk toward the dresser and grab a small, green box. Opening it, I stare back at the yellow, crystal totem with the bird markings in it. I pull out the totem, which dangles around the chain, the crystal shining underneath the overhead light. Throwing it over my neck, energy pulses through my body, a warm sensation. Even the slight pain in my stomach subsides. Don't think the totem has healing powers, but every time I wear it, I sure feel invincible.
I grab the jacket with one hand, flick the light swtich off with the other and stride down the hallway. I'm about to open the door, but Doug hurries over and puts his left hand on my right shoulder.
"Hey, you better stay in touch." He hands over my smartphone, then raises a finger toward me. "And you better be careful this time. I don't want to be stitching up anything else tonight."
My left hand goes up to his right shoulder. "I'll be careful, I promise." I lean forward and give him a quick kiss on the lips. "Listen, I know you get worried. I'll be sure to text you when I'm done. Let you know that I'm all right."
He can't help but smile. "I understand you're doing this because you love the city so much. And I get that you don't want to see anything happen to our congressman. Just watch yourself out there. Couldn't stand it if anything happened to you."
I give a quick nod and pull open the door. Heading through the halls and down the stairs -- we live on the third floor, so I never see the need to use the elevator -- I push the door open that leads to the garage. Picking up my pace, I reach my black compact car, open the door and start the engine.
The West Side Warehouse is only a few blocks away and there aren't many traffic lights to deal with, so it only takes a few minutes for me to get there. Along the way, I keep thinking back to what Doug said. Deep down, I know I shouldn't think of him as being overly protective. I get what he's saying -- if something happened to him, I'd be upset, too. Turning a corner, I promise myself that I won't get hurt this time.
I'm careful to park my car in an alley so it can't be seen. Shutting off the engine, I exit the vehicle and make my way toward the warehouse. Though my pace remains quick, I stay on my tiptoes as best I can, not wanting to make too much noise. Been lucky so far not to feel that dull pain in my stomach, though I imagine I may have to fight through it once things get rough.
I'm a few feet away from the door when I feel a sudden gust -- like the wind picked up out of nowhere. It's enough to freeze me in my tracks. My heads swivels about, wondering where the heck that came from. It's been calm most of the day, a slight breeze at one point, but nothing more than that and the weather report didn't say a storm would be on the way. Besides, that whoosh lasted a second, not like any burst of wind I've experienced.
That's when I notice somebody in front of the door. Can barely make out the figure underneath that small light above. Looks like somebody dressed in all red. By the looks of the body's build, it might be a woman. Only other thing that stands out is that black ponytail sticking out through what looks like a full mask over the top of her head. I wrinkle my nose and scratch my head, wondering who in the world is this, what she's doing in my city and whether she's friend or foe.
The woman pays me no mind and keeps staring at the door. What happens next catches me off guard. Her body vibrates into a blur and she steps forward. And she goes through the door. I mean, like, her body just slides right through that solid metal, like it wasn't even there.
I whisper, "What in the world." For a moment, I don't move a muscle. My mind has to be playing tricks on me, right? Sure, I have this magic totem that amplifies my scream and lets me kind of walk on air, but since when could anybody walk through solid objects? Unless there's some other totems out there that I know nothing about.
Then I snap out of my trance and race toward the door, remembering I came here to get a job done. I rush toward the door, focus on the lock and let loose a small scream. The lock and handle fall apart and I pull the door open. Time to find out not only what's going on with Intergang, but learn about that woman in red who can do the impossible.
To be continued in Chapter 7.
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