“I know it isn’t ideal Napp, but with The Deck essentially wiped out we have to be more cautious. We simply have to allow things to play out a little longer before we can make a move.”

Pausing, Beacon listens quietly to the voice on the other end of the line. After a few seconds, he begins speaking again.

“Absolutely. But we both know that if Ginger Snap is truly working with Eldritch then we have a bigger problem than a few mercenaries can solve. I don’t love it, but have you tried contacting Vicious yet? You know how I feel about him, but he would get the job done.”

Listening for a minute, he frowns in confusion. “He refused? That’s extremely odd. I can’t remember the last time he refused a contract. But then, he was sighted in Liberty City somewhat recently. Perhaps he’s just avoiding returning to the same city? Try contacting him again in a few months.”

He goes quiet again, letting the other man speak. Then he laughs saying, “Ginny did what? I swear Napp, that kid of yours scares me more than any villain does. If I had a daughter that tried to buy a football team so her high school could play in their stadium I might go crazy too. You’ll have to dock her allowance I sup-”

The sound of a door slamming open and an out of breath man rushing into the office interrupt his phone call. “Beacon! Sir!”

Putting the phone down, but not hanging up, Beacon asks in a calm voice, “Yes?”

“Sir, ahem,” puffs the office aide in exhaustion before bracing himself with a large gulp of air and continuing. “Sir, the alert you put out on signs of Becca activity got a hit.”

Picking the phone back up, Beacon asks in a light tone, “Can we continue later Napp? I have something I have to take care of.” Smiling, he listens to the quick reply before adding, “Thank you, bye buddy.” Then he hangs up and diverts his full attention to the aide.

“We think she stopped at a county fair of about fifty people in southern Illinois. They were exhibiting pigs.”

Beacon closes his eyes and asks, “Any survivors?”

Miserably the aide replies, “A couple of the hogs sir.”

“Any indication of which direction she was headed?”

The aide shakes his head and answers, “No, but we asked the FBI to preserve the scene in case any supers were free to help them with the investigation.”

“Well,” Beacon says wryly, “my powers don’t exactly lend themselves to that kind of work. You’ll need to check with Blind Justice to see who is available.”

An uncomfortable silence mounts between the two for a few seconds before Beacon clears his throat and says lightly, “You can go do that now, if you like.”

Blushing, the aide stammers out, “Sorry sir! I’ll go right away sir! Right away!”

Sighing to himself, Beacon picks up the phone and prepares to dial a number only to find another, different, office aide barging through his door. Similarly out of breath, the aide says in a frantic tone, “Sir!”

“What?” Beacon says with a hint of snap in his voice.

“Sir!” the aide babbles, “it’s, well, it’s bad sir! Very bad indeed!”

“What is it?”

“The Thirteen sir! The Tribulations! They’re attacking the Statue of Liberty!”

Standing instantly Beacon flares his power. For a second the room is full of light, but when it clears the thin man is clad in a shining light that settles like dust over his ordinary looking suit. In a commanding motion he stands and strides forth, hurling orders to evacuate and summon assistance before lighting up his feet with little discs and leaping from a nearby window. Then he is off, racing out to face this latest threat, the phone lying forgotten on his desk.

Across miles, in a little house in a not so little city a girl surreptitiously creeps down the stairs. Carefully, she places each foot just so on the stairs so they will not creak before leaning forward and letting her weight, slight as it is, settle on the aged wooden slats.

“She’s asking questions, we can’t keep lying to her forever!” hisses her mother in an angry tone.

Placating, her father replies with, “We have an agreement, right?”

“She’s sixteen! Isn’t that close enough?”

“We agreed we would tell her the truth when she was eighteen, it’s just two more years.”

“Two more years as a teenager!” her mother retorts. “You’re always gone. You have no idea how difficult she’s become since Amanda died. I’ve tried giving her space and time but it isn’t working.”

“Well,” her father starts before he quickly adds, “whoa! Don’t point that at me! We agreed this would be easier if we didn’t pretend more than we had to! I’m just doing what we agreed upon.”

“I didn’t agree to this,” her mother says in frustration. “She’s sneaking out, she’s hardly ever home and I know she quit all her sports and clubs without telling us… And don’t get me started on her grades!”

“We can work on that, I can stay in town more for the next couple years if that’s what we need.”

“Ha!” her mother snorts before saying sarcastically, “That’s just what she needs! Her father coming in on a white horse to be the parent her mother can’t.”

“That’s not true,” her father insists, “you’ve been a great mother. Hailey is lucky to have you.”

“She’s my daughter and I hardly know her anymore,” her mother says in a weary voice.

“She’s growing up and we have to accept that she won’t always be our little girl.”

“My little girl,” corrects her mother primly. “You and your job make her more mine than yours at this point.” Then she sighs and adds, “Besides, these recent changes are more than just growing up.”

“We have a deal. She’s mine and yours until eighteen. After that, well we both know what we agreed to do then,” he says quietly. Then he adds, “Her best friend died. Right in front of her eyes,” her father says quietly. “I can only imagine…” he trails off, his voice getting quiet enough that the girl on the stairs has to strain to hear him speak. “Look, things are tough enough for her now regardless of our situation. If we put this on her plate on top of everything else, it’s going to crush her. We both know it won’t be easy, even when she’s older, to hear the truth.”

“I know, I know, but I can’t help but wish we could just tell her everything. This would be easier if you weren’t a good person,” her mother says with a hint of sarcasm and playfulness in her voice. Then in a worried tone, she continues with, “I know what these trips are really about. You shouldn’t recuse yourself on my account. She needs her father, now more than ever. You don’t see it, but she’s spiraling.”

Silence mounts between the two, the girl fidgeting nervously as she leans further forward on her perch on the stairs. Straining, she hears her father’s quiet voice when he starts to speak again in a slow and contemplative manner.

“Do you think we should be sending her to a therapist? I know the school is checking in, but it couldn’t hurt to have her meet with someone else too.”

“Maybe. But if we’re wrong and she reacts badly it might push her away even further. I don’t want to lose her.”

“From the way you’re talking, it seem like we already have,” he says, a weight accompanying his words that seems palpable, even to the girl eavesdropping on the staircase.

The silence returns. On the stairs Hailey slumps back, closing her eyes and thinking about what it could all mean and what they both said. The faint noise of her phone buzzing in her pocket dispels her wild thoughts. She stares blankly down at the bright screen, making sense of the words for a long second before making her way back up to her room, out the window, and out into the streets of Liberty City.

Behind her, her parents start speaking again.

“I wish we could tell her everything,” her mother begins wearily.

In an equally as worn tone, her father answers, “I do too. She deserves better. But we’re doing the best we can and that has to count for something, right?”

His question, dear reader, has no answer, at least not tonight. Tonight, the concerns of the city outweigh the concerns of two tired parents. Tonight, villainy is afoot!

Moving across the rooftops of Liberty City Hailey transforms into Eldritch Maiden as she races toward the latest danger encroaching on the cities’ denizens. As she moves, her mind races trying to make sense of her parent’s conversation and what it could all mean. But, as she reaches her destination, she realizes she has no time for idle thoughts.

Standing atop a run-down theatre, two men in masks cackle wildly. One is familiar, though sporting a new costume. The other is slightly taller and striking a flamboyant pose. As Hailey settles atop the roof opposite the pair, they make to introduce themselves.

“Ha-HA!” shouts the newer figure in a regal voice. “Hark! Here the heroine happens upon our hellacious hotbed of horror and villainy!”

At his side, the other figure slaps his forehead and says in a put-upon voice, “Must you overact so?” As he does, Eldritch notes his new costume.

“Why, are we not robbing the rich outside a showing of Man of La Mancha? How can you expect me to hold fast at such a delightful opportunity?”

Waving his hand across the street, the first man says wearily, “Well, let’s get this show on the road. Hello Eldritch. Minions, seize her!”

From positions around the door of the theatre, two men with long beards and mismatched sets of stage armor step forth to the middle of the street. Then one of them hurls a gauntlet down on the pavement and points up at Eldritch without speaking.

“Ha-HA!” shouts the first man. “Face our noble knights in single combat, heroine!”

Glancing at the familiar man, Eldritch asks, “So, Tango, mind explaining all this before I have to beat you back down?”

Tango, replete in a medieval costume that carries a jester motif, starts to step forward to answer the question before the person next to him steps forward and cuts him off with a flourish of his hand.

“Ha-HA!” he laughs. “I am the older, handsomer, more important older brother of Tango, the man who taught him everything he knows about crime, the master of villainous deeds, the terror… Tiiiii-empo!”

“Tempo?” Eldritch asks, confused.

“Tiempo,” corrects the man in an urbane voice.

“Tea-em-po?”

“Tiempo.”

Frowning, Eldritch says slowly, “Umm, I don’t really speak Spanish, but I don’t think that means what you think it means.”

“Ha-HA!” Tiempo replies. “You must feel overwhelmed with fear at the sight of terrible visage. You may not know what you say, fair Maiden, and I can empathize with your confusion. Alack! My compatriots and I shall stop at nothing in pursuit of the riches we can presently liberate from these,” he gestures down to the theatre he stands upon in a sweeping motion before continuing, “wealthy show-goers.”

Eldritch simply stares him up and down, taking in his ridiculous matador costume done up with ornate ropes, buttons, and tassels. Then she glances over at Tango, who visibly rolls his eyes and sighs before shrugging helplessly.

“Right,” Eldritch replies in an arch tone. “Siblings, huh?”

Then, with a flourish, she pulls out her dagger and elongates it into a two-handed broadsword. Grinning, she raises it high over her shoulder and leaps down to the street and the “knighted” minions below. Shouting as she leaps, she screams out with wild abandon and glee, “My destiny calls and I go!”

Indeed it does dear reader! Striking forth, Hailey finds herself embroiled in a contest of noble knights, however ‘noble’ the lackeys of Tiempo and Tango might be, but will these serpents of sin prove the victors against her? Find out next week in… “Tilting at Windmills!”