Ch 13 Week 11

Kioshi and Hannah looked surprised when they answered Lola’s calls on Sunday afternoon and found a new face in the lair. “This is Ratface,” Lola said. “He’s a henchman.”

Hannah have him a long glance. He was wearing a dingy brown bomber jacket, fatigue pants, and had two large tote bags sitting on the floor at his feet. “Are you sure you can trust him?” she asked. “He looks kind of dodgy to me.”

“That’s kind of the point,” Lola explained. “No more playing super villain. We’re going to learn how to do this right.” When her minions nodded Lola continued. “Now, I believe I promised big guns?”

She thought Ratface seemed a little too proud of himself as he unzipped his duffle bag and started handing out guns. “This is an M16 203 Over Under,” he said, handing over a large, heavy gun to Hannah. Ratface turned to Lola and grinned. “I feel like a homicidal Santa Claus,” he offered.

“No homicide,” Lola said. “They’re just supposed to scare people.”

“All the same,” Hannah said, “we should still learn how to shoot them.” She had a small smile on her face as she stroked the gun in her hands.

“And for you my Asian friend,” Ratface said, giving a second gun to Kioshi. “This one is a P-90 SN.”

“Thank you,” Kioshi said, and Hannah stifled a laugh. “What?”

“I don’t think that’s how you respond to someone handing you a semi-automatic rifle,” Hannah told him with a grin.

Ratface rolled his eyes and dipped into his bags one more time. “SAW machine gun,” he said, holding up the biggest gun of the three. “This one is for me.”

“Why do you get the machine gun?” Hannah asked immediately. “I want a machine gun.”

“Well, if you know where to dig one up, by all means, go get your own,” Ratface replied. He clutched the gun to his chest. “I’ve always wanted one of these.”

“No arguing when I spend thousands of dollars to buy the three of you toys,” Lola snapped. “Ratface is going to take the two of you out to practice shooting.”

“What about you?” Kioshi asked.

“I don’t shoot things,” Lola replied. “You kids just go have fun.” She tried to smile, but was relieved all the same when they left, leaving her lair empty. She sat in the quiet and contemplated what they would be doing the next day. It was sure to get people to notice them, which was somewhat the point, but she was concerned. By coming out of the closet, so to speak, she would be exposing them not only to the other super villains, but the heroes and the police too. She wasn’t afraid of the police, but she had to admit, the heroes made her a little nervous.

She paced for a while, thinking about the heroes. How would Glory react to the Mind Mistress? Would one of them decide they wanted to be her arch nemesis? Did she get any say in the matter? Her mother had a nemesis once, in the ’90’s--Sonic Hero Man. He had followed her around for a few years but eventually got married and retired from heroing. They had parted amicably enough, apparently. At least, both of them were still alive. Romeo Avenger can nemisize me anytime, she thought with a small smile.

For the last few days Lola had tried to do nothing but focus on her villain career. It helped distract her from the heavy feeling she got in her chest whenever she thought of Lawrence. It was silly, mourning the loss of the pipsqueak. She knew that. She was so much better than that. Yet she still had to keep herself thinking to keep from crying.

*****

It was strange, suddenly having a roommate, Lawrence decided. He hadn’t shared a room with anyone since he was three years old. Torch didn’t have anything to move in since everything he owned had burned, so for the last few days he had been wearing Lawrence’s clothes, rolled up at the sleeves and pant legs.

“How long have you been living like that?” Lawrence asked him after a few days of getting used to each other. Lawrence had taken to wearing his mask in the room since it made Torch more comfortable, and he was pretty sure Torch even showered in the new black mask America had found for him. Lawrence found himself willing to break the mask rule, but Torch was adamant that they break as few rules as possible.

Torch was sitting in the center of his fire-proof bed set. When America explained the situation to Mim the seamstress had sheets and pillow cases ready for them within a few hours. “Just since mid-summer this time. I lost my parents when I was thirteen and I ran away from my first foster home after setting fire to the garage. No foster parent was going to put up with that. I lived on the streets for a while, but eventually I would get caught stealing or fighting and I would end up in one institution or another. They do that when you can’t control your powers you know.” Lawrence did know. It was part of the reason he had hidden his. “When I got the League letter they wouldn’t let me go…so I had to break out. They must not have informed the League because no one’s ever said anything to me. It wasn’t the greatest of places.”

He fell back on this pillows and stretched out on the bed. “I haven’t stayed in a place this nice for years.”

“The League should have found you a place,” Lawrence said, not for the first time. The program seemed to be lacking, especially where Torch was concerned.

“I can’t believe the League accepted me at all,” Torch replied. “I’m a mess. I cant even have a nightmare without catching an entire building on fire.”

“At least it was an accident. At least you’re not doing it on purpose,” Lawrence offered.

“Yeah. Or taking credit for someone else’s fires.” Someone named Inferno had sent a message to the local news station claiming that he had set the house on fire. The villains of the town seemed to love attention. The way Lawrence saw it, if the media would just stop making such a spectacle of super villains there would be a lot less crime in Acropolis. “Of course, if they had found out it was me I might be in the Gorram Asylum instead of here, so I suppose I should be thanking the guy.”

“This town is so strange.”

“Do you wish you were back home in a normal life?”

“In Ohio? Never.” Lawrence grinned. “This place is screwed up, but anything is better than Ohio.”

“You’re just saying that because you have America.”

“Maybe,” Lawrence said. America. She was wonderful, but ever since he had broken things off with Lola, anything he did with America seemed uncomfortable and…lacking. But he was convinced had not made a mistake. America was a girl you waited for, a girl you kept. Lola was…dangerous. He knew it from the hold she seemed to have over him. She was dangerous…and he missed her.

He turned on the TV to clear his head of thoughts of America and Lola. They were broadcasting a live press conference that afternoon from the police station, and he was interested to see what the chief of police had to say about the crime in Acropolis. Torch sat up again when he saw the image on the screen. “Who is that?”

Lawrence stared too at the woman in black leather broke through the crowd of reporters, flanked on either side by people with big guns in long leather coats. A guy in brown leather brought up the rear with the biggest gun of all. “I don’t know,” Lawrence answered his friend. “But I don’t think the cops have a chance against her.”


*****

Lola was acutely aware of all of the eyes, cameras, and guns in the room, all of them pointed on her. You have to be calm. You can do this. She was a naturally confident person, but she had never had the occasion to discover that she had stage fright until that very moment. “Say something,” she heard Ratface hiss behind her as the crowd separated to let them through.

I don’t know what to say. This was a bad idea. She was going to be humiliated on city-wide television, she was going to be arrested or shot…why oh why hadn’t she gone into bank robbing like her mother…

“People of Acropolis,” she heard Ratface shout out behind her as the crowds parted for them and they stepped up to the podium where Chief Simons stood staring in disbelief. “Her very voice seduces, her gaze will compel the most sane man to madness. She is the dark goddess of the psyche, her will is your command. It is my pleasure to introduce…the Mistress of Minds.”

“Thank you, Ratface,” Lola said through clenched teeth.

She half expected the crowd to start clapping after that speech, but the room was silent. There were a dozen officers in the room, but she had more fire power, and they were standing by waiting for opportunity. “What is this?” Chief Simons demanded. He was only middle aged, but he had the look of a man who used to be larger than he was now, and his hair was liberally streaked with grey. She noticed his hands were shaking, clutching at the podium to try to steady them. The chief did not look well, and she almost felt guilty for what she was about to do to him.

Lola looked at each of the police officers in turn. “You will not shoot us,” she told each man individually before she did anything else. She turned to the audience of reporters and spoke into the chief’s microphone. “I hope you all have your cameras on,” she announced, trying to quell the fear rising in her chest. They hadn’t been shot yet, so all was going according to plan.

“As my associate said, I am the Mistress of Minds. I’m new in town and I just wanted to introduce myself to Chief Simons here.” She nodded to the chief. “Hi.”

“What do you want?” he demanded. His hands were shaking worse. He was not well.

“Calm down,” she demanded. “Please.” It wouldn’t do for the man to have a heart attack in the process of things.

Lola returned to the microphone. “I have a little demonstration,” she said, and turned to the less-stressed Chief Simons. “Pat your head and rub your belly at the same time.” He complied. She wanted to start out small and work up to the good stuff. Throughout the room people started muttering to themselves, or into the mikes some of the reporters were holding. There were no less than three television cameras documenting her performance.

“Dance for us.” He moved with ungraceful steps, but improved when she started giving him direction. “Shuffle, step, ball-change on the left--Jazz hands.” Some of the reporters began to laugh, and Lola felt herself relaxing.

“Wrap this up,” Ratface whispered to her. “I’m sure the rest of the police department and a few heroes are on the way.”

She nodded. One thing left to do. “You can stop now,” she told him, and the chief gave her a murderous look, suggesting that he still had a little fire left in him. “Bark like a dog. Keep going until we’re gone.”

He was doing a fairly good impression of a yipping Chihuahua She nodded to her minions and they fled room though the back doors. Their escape wouldn’t have worked if they were at the police station, but in the convention center they passed no one as they broke into a run for the stairs, cutting through an industrial-sized kitchen at the back of the building. They surprised a few people cutting vegetables at a long counter. “Drop your knives,” Hannah said, pointing her gun at them and causing one man to scream.

“Sorry,” she said as they exited out through the kitchen’s loading dock. “I couldn’t resist.”

Instead of the Lotus for a get-away car Lola had recognized the need for discretion (once Rat-face had pointed it out) and they all piled into the delivery van waiting for them, Ratface gunning the engine. Unable to resist, Lola told him to pull around to the front of the building, where a mass of police cars nearly blocked the street, and some of the reporters had emerged. Lola caught sight of Stone, the large grey-skinned man sticking out in the crowd.

“That was good, wasn’t it?” she asked Ratface.

“I thought you’d frozen for a minute, but you managed to pull it together. We‘ll make a proper villain of you yet. They should definitely let us into the club now.”

“Wait,” Kioshi said from the back of the van. “We risked our lives so you could get into that red-door club?”

“Is that a problem?” she shot back.

“No, I just wanted to be clear.”

“Good.”

Back at the lair they locked up the guns in the expensive (but very pretty) gun safe Lola had purchased, and Hannah and Kioshi excused themselves. Hannah had a test coming up to study for and Kioshi had a class to teach. Ratface stayed after them, and Lola counted out a thousand dollars in fifties for him. “Thank you,” she said, handing him the money.

“It was one of the more interesting jobs I’ve taken,” he admitted, folding up the cash and stuffing it into his boot. “So I expect I’ll see you at the club?”

“Well, you won’t be getting in without me.”

“I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy working for you,” he told her.

She smiled. Ratface was beginning to grow on her. “I hope so.”

*****

Glory stared at the television. The local news channel played the footage of the press conference every half-hour. She’d missed the live broadcast because she was in class, but as soon as KP called her and told her what had happened she’d been glued to the TV. Another Dark Lothario, was all she could think, dismay flooding her body. What was wrong with this city? At home there were criminals. Some of them even wore costumes and masks. But this wasn’t a bank robbery or a jewelry store theft. This wasn’t about money. This Mistress of the Mind pulled the stunt only to frighten people, to get publicity. When criminals cared more about their own image than money, that was when she knew the world was in trouble.

When I’m a proper hero, I’ll show her, Glory thought. After Dark Lothario is in jail, she’ll be next. Lola walked through the door, coming in with a heavy bag of books on her shoulder. “Where have you been?” Glory asked her.

“The library,” Lola answered quickly. “I’ve got a lot of studying to do.”

“Wait,” Glory called after her as she headed for her room. “Don’t you want to see the new super-villain?”

“Seen it,” Lola paused in her doorway. “Been there, done that. This is your thing, remember, not mine. I have a lot of school work.” She shut her door behind her and Glory picked up the phone to call KP and see what he thought of the whole thing.

*****

A/N:
Merry Christmas--here's your late chapter. :)

For the record, I know nothing about Big Guns. My boyfriend told me what to use and I used them. (Guns are my least favorite weapons. I like sports equipment.)

Anonymous: I'm glad you're enjoying the story. I kinda chose Conneticuit at random--I wanted a north-eastern state. I'm trying to put little homages to other super hero stories. The name of the university is for the noir detective genre, which includes Batman. Acropolis is of course for Metropolis. Ms. X is for the X-men. And so on.