Memoirs of a Super Criminal
By
David Corbet
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2011 David Corbet
Cover Art by David Corbet
See more about David Corbet online at
http://daav-aotm.blogspot.com/
http://daav-corbet.fineartamerica.com
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For Owen,
thank you for all the inspiring games of attack-tack.
Chapter 1
The sky was on fire. An old man, fit but aged, crouched behind a stack of crates. He was breathing heavy; that last dash was a wild one. Somewhere out there in the warehouse district, “heroes” were circling, looking for this master criminal.
“Damn, what went wrong?” The elderly criminal whispered to himself. He looked down at his purple and yellow costume. “This was one of my favorites too.” Slash and burn marks were vivid signs of the near hits that he was lucky enough to escape.
El Mag, this villain’s pseudonym, was not sure if his last volley had thrown the heroes off his track or not. From his position he only had a small glimpse of the outside. What he saw was ruin and destruction. They had been chasing him for almost an hour, pushing him into the mostly abandoned warehouse district where they could unleash upon him their full strength. Twice he thought he had given them the slip and twice they had shown up again, ever closer. But not close enough. Not yet at least.
El Mag, with the short rest, got his breathing under control.
“Options?” He thought out loud. “Not many. My escape route has been compromised and my back up plan shot to hell. I think I will need some help on this escape.”
He leaned back against the cool crate and cleared his mind.
“Danny, you there? If you are pick up please. I need an assist.”
El Mag waited for a few moments.
“Hey, Big El. Not going so well?”
“I have been in worse.”
“From the looks of the live feeds I am seeing of the area I doubt it could get much worse; and the fact that you contacted me.”
Danny was one of El Mag’s sources, for both job leads and team-ups. A faceless voice that always had the inside scoop and the highest paying jobs, Danny was the go-to guy for most of the super villains in the area. The last thing criminals wanted was to show up on a scene just to realize that they had been beat out by some other thief. So naturally the role of criminal organizer became essential to the criminal success of any region. Danny was one of the best and one of the few that El Mag trusted.
“Yeah ok, Danny. I am in a tight bind and need a quick exit. Do you have anyone on stand by?”
“In fact I do have a few. Ever hear of Mr. Liquid? A new kid just getting a start. Been doing a lot of drop in and teamwork. You know trying to make a good name for himself.”
“Not sure if inexperience is what I need tonight. But from the name I am guessing he is an elemental? That might be useful.”
“Yes, water manipulation and the such. Can breathe underwater and can take others with him. You thinking river escape?”
“Possibly. But I am not sure I can get to the river from here. At least not without a diversion. A big one.”
“Well let me see. Who are you up against? With all the electronic interference I have not gotten a clear look.”
“Two low level heroes. Captain Electro and Flashfire.”
“They should be no problem for you.”
“They are not alone. A first rate hero is here. Armageddon.”
“Oh damn. Armageddon. Well, you are screwed. Sorry man. Take the beating and do the time.”
“No listen. I think I can get away. Who else do you have available? I need a heavy hitter; some one not afraid to mix it up. At least for a few moments.”
“Listen if you had said Armageddon first off I would have disconnected. I like you, El Mag. But there is no way I can drag others into a fight against that guy. Just no way.”
“I will pay double your normal. And just lay it on the line to whomever you have available. If they say no, then so be it.”
“Damn it El Mag…”
“Not your call. I am paying and they are deciding; you are just the middle man.”
“You are right, never make it personal. Tank is back. He is hard up for work. And he is the only one I can think of that might last a minute against Armageddon.”
“Tank is out? And looking for work already? Damn, he will do perfectly.”
“I will put together a package, full disclosure.”
“Excellent, make it quick and I will take both Mr. Liquid and Tank.”
El Mag opened his eyes and checked the area around him. No heroes in sight. He moved slowly across the warehouse to a row of dusty windows. He needed to know his position in relation to the waterfront a few blocks away. And if he could find out where the heroes were without revealing this location, all the better.
El Mag could make out Armageddon hovering fifty feet above the warehouse roofs a few buildings over. His red and black suit was unmistakable. When El Mag caught site of Armageddon’s red cape back at the Electronic switching station he knew he was in for a hard run. And now there he hovered, slowly searching each building. But where were the other two?
Neither Flashfire nor Captain Electro could fly, but they were in great shape and could move fast. They each had masterful control over their skills and equal range of throwing fire or lightening strikes.
El Mag caught sight of the orange and yellow costume of Flashfire. He just entered the building across the street. They were close. That probably meant that Captain Electro was working this side of the street. He was no match for El Mag. But a firefight would draw the attention of Armageddon. And El Mag knew he did not stand a chance against him, not without help.
El Mag willed Danny to hurry up the contact. He moved back from the windows. He found a staircase that led up to a row of offices that set in the end of the building furthest from Armageddon and Flashfire. El Mag smelled the smoke drifting through the air from the last encounter they had a few blocks away. Flashfire did not hold back but unleashed a torrent of spouting flames, igniting everything in sight.
“At least this warehouse appears to be in use. They might be hesitant to blast it to pieces.” El Mag whispered to himself as he searched for roof access. He found another set of stairs and climbed to the roof. He took a seat and waited for Danny’s call.
“I am getting too old for this. How time flies,” El Mag said out loud as he shook his head. He remembered back, back to the beginning. Back to when the world was just discovering how super good or bad it could become.
Chapter 2
I remember when I knew, knew for sure that I was different. I had always suspected as I imagine most kids did back then. This was the time when super hero or villain was mostly just a comic book phenomenon. Before government intervention, before the genetic coding laws; this was a time of seemingly innocence. That I know now, but back then, I was just a kid trying to figure it all out. It was the same year the NYC released their first team of Super-cops. All of them twenty- something’s with abilities like speed, super strength, invulnerability, flight and other useful skills. Of course, with the first team of heroes, it was not long before there was a team of super criminals who had more destructive skill sets, such as breathing fire or shooting eye- lasers. And that inevitably lead to collateral damage. Even if the “heroes” had protocols of engagements, they were quickly discarded in the heat of the battle for the “common good” and the “means justifies the ends.” Both scenarios which upheld in court. Within a decade, city streets were being ripped up in epic battles. It was chaos. The normal citizens were abandoning cities, which turned into wastelands or battlefields. People cried to the government, and eventually, when innocent death tolls reached high enough, the government was forced to act. Those were turbulent times. Those were the times I grew up in. They helped to shape me as a person and as a criminal. But before I was a criminal I was a boy asking questions and searching for answers. And the day it all started?
It was a Tuesday and I was walking home from school. My best buddy had just turned down his street; I walked the last four blocks alone. I kind of liked that time of the day with the cars whizzing by, the buzzing of the transformers on the power poles. That is what gave it away. Ever since I could remember, I could hear the buzzing of the power lines, especially the transformers, and no one else ever could. I found it odd. And on that Tuesday I started thinking about it a lot. I just sort of concentrated on the transformer at the end of the block and suddenly a bolt of electricity shot out of my hand and into the transformer. I fell to the ground in surprise. The transformer burst apart showering down sparks and pieces all over the roadway. Cars screeched to a halt. And people gathered around me lying on the ground.
The police insisted that the transformer overloaded, arced out and hit me. I did not want to argue. But I knew that it was the other way around. I remember reading about this kid who lived across the state from me who could cause spontaneous fires. He proved it on national TV. They hauled him away as a safety precaution. Never know what happened to him. I did not want the same thing to happen to me.
The News said I was lucky to be alive. I did not tell them my side of the story. Just agreed solemnly. But I saw the way people looked at me. They all wondered. And so did I. No, not wondered, I knew, but I still had to test it out.
I waited for a while. It was at least a month before I tried anything else. Everyday I feared I would do something by accident. So I tried not to even think about it. I just went through my daily routine, head down, anti-social. Even my best friends were a little standoffish. That was ok. If I did have some kind of special powers they might be better off not knowing me. I tried not to think about it until I had time to test it.
That time came in December. My folks went to a Christmas party for my mom’s work. I had the house to myself for the night, at least until midnight. But I did not want to accidentally blow up anything in the house. I dressed in my warmest clothes and took off towards the outskirts of town on my bike.
I found a power pole with a transformer mounted on top. I stood off a ways and stared at it trying to will something to happen. Nothing did, I shut my eyes and tried again. Still nothing. Doubt crept into my mind. But I was so certain. I thought back to how exactly it had happened before. I was thinking about the humming and how I could feel it in my head and even in my body. At that moment a spark leaped from my head to the pole and then back. I thought harder about the humming, as being part of it. A giant bolt shot out and blew the transformer up. Sparks cascaded down on my smiling face. That was the key. The humming. Now that I knew what it was I could feel it pulsating through me.
I jumped back on my bike and hauled ass home. It would not be wise to be caught next to another blown transformer. I had to cover this up as best that I could. No one could now that I had this ability, at least not until I knew more about it and what I should do with it.
This was the time before the Internet and instant access. I spent the next few days at the community library reading books about electricity. Most of it was over my head but I learned about conductors and insulators: Metals and rubbers or ceramics.
I turned twelve that year.
Chapter 3
“El Mag, you still there?”
“Yeah Danny. Did they agree?”
“Mr. Liquid is all for it, hundred thousand. But Tank said no.”
“Damn, I need him. Is he still on the line, will he negotiate?”
“Yes and maybe.”
“Tell him a million and I promise he will not have to go toe to toe with Armageddon for more than five punches.”
“You know that in this line of work promises are meaningless. But money talks so let me ask.”
Another few moments passed as El Mag waited, devising a plan of escape. The river would work. “Hurry up, Danny.” El Mag whispered to no one in particular.
“Ok man. Sounds like money did the trick. The Tank is in. You got a plan?”
“Yeah, here is the bank account number, connect me with them.”
“Tank, Mr. Liquid, you both there?”
“Yep,” Mr. Liquid chimed in, a little too up beat for El Mag’s taste.
“Hey, El Mag, nice to know you are still kicking.”
“Tank, glad to hear that you are out walking again. Mr. Liquid, pleasure to do business with you. Danny says you are ok.”
Danny spoke. “Ok the money is in escrow accounts. You are good to go. Have fun and big pay day if you all live.”
“What’s the plan?” Tank and Mr. Liquid asked almost in unison.
That is good, thought El Mag. At least they were on the same page. “Ok simple. I take out Captain Electro. Mr. Liquid, Flashfire is all yours and Tank, you get the pleasure of beating on Armageddon. Mr. Liquid, what are the natures of your ability?”
“General water manipulation and augmentation. I can travel through it and take passengers, quite quickly in fact. I can use it to spray crowds, collapse it into a fist and punch with it. Pretty standard stuff.”
“Excellent. Can you meet us at the end of Pier 14? Be in the river and ready to take passengers. When you see Flashfire, he will be wearing an orange and yellow costume. Neutralize him. Out of action but no killing.”
“I had heard that about you. A little squeamish about killing, and yet all bad. I am cool with that. I will be at the pier in about 90 seconds.” Mr. Liquid said with hint of satisfaction in his voice.
“Ok and keep the line open. I like to communicate any last minute changes. Tank how far out are you?”
“Started heading your way when I first saw the news. I can be at Pier 14 in about two minutes.”
“Excellent. Come west down the third street off the water. I am going to set up Armageddon for you. Stay quiet but be ready to move. Our window of action is going to be slim.”
“I am in motion. Tank out.”
El Mag moved up the stairs to the roof top door. Slowly he opened it and peered out. How long had it been since he saw Flashfire enter the building, three minutes, four? El Mag moved slowly across the roof using cover as much as possible. Armageddon was turned away from the roof, scanning the other side of the wharf area. Still no sign of Captain Electro. He would show when he does, thought El Mag.
An orange and yellow form moved into the alleyway between the buildings across the street. El Mag let out a stream of particles that nearly caught the form full in the chest. Flashfire spun and fired back, white hot flames ignited the roof top where El Mag had been standing just moments ago. But he was already in motion.
Armageddon saw the display of sparks and flames and immediately drifted that way. A steady pace, no hurry. He saw another spout of flames and sparks on the opposite side of the building.
El Mag lured Flashfire two streets over. In the process he received new burns on his purple and yellow costume. The short exchange of supercharged particles was to bring Flashfire into striking distance of Mr. Liquid.
“I see ‘em and moving in to take.” Mr. Liquid whispers.
“Perfect. He is all yours.” El Mag quickly changed directions back towards Third Street and Armageddon.
Flashfire turned to meet him, when he was suddenly doused with a plume of water.
“Not so fast Flashfire. My turn to tussle with you,” Mr. Liquid stated with an obvious smile and followed up with a spray of water that sent Flashfire crashing into a wall, breaking windows along the whole building.
El Mag was quick to make time back to Third Street.
“I am here,” Tank whispered over the open line.
“Good.” El Mag responded, while thinking, “but where is Captain Electro?”
A burst of lightening shattered the ground in front of him. A blue form with white gloves stepped out of the shadows of a doorway two-thirds of the way down the building. A second lightening bolt caught El Mag full in the chest. El Mag absorbed the blast but staggered as a feint to lure the Captain out further.
“Captain, Captain. You have so much more potential then you even realized.” El Mag said and followed up with a blast of lightening that lit the sky like a noonday sun.
Captain Electro stood his ground taking the hit as if it was nothing. He returned fire, stepping ever closer to El Mag while increasing the power of his bolts.
El Mag maneuvered a stumble again and thought to himself, “That blast was not for you, but to draw Armageddon. And there he is. Not much time left now.” Then El Mag ordered, “Get ready, Tank.”
El Mag unleashed another torrent of lightening and charged particles. “You take this well, Captain. But what about x-rays? Can you handle those?” El Mag’s assault turned invisible crashing x-rays and microwaves against the Captain.
The Captain staggered. Searing pain lashed across his body. His blue costume ripped to shreds. Burn marks appear across his torso and legs. Captain shielded his face with his hands and crumbled to the ground.
Tank moved along the shadow of the wall and tracked Armageddon’s descent to street level directly behind the Captain. “In position,” He whispered. Meaning both himself and Armageddon.
“Count it down,” El Mag said as he unleashed a blast at Armageddon. Not full force, but sustained. Keep his attention until the last second.
“Three.” Tank took off at a full run while judging the distance.
“Two.”
“One.” At the moment of impact, El Mag cut the juice flowing into Armageddon’s chest and Tank took over as he crashed into his back. At a full run Tank could easily take down a building, or stop a train in its tracks. He had done both of those. Tank stand at well over seven feet tall, with a muscle mass and bone density ten times that of an average human. That was his gift, his specialty. But knocking things down is one thing, fighting is another. Tank learned that the hard way with repetitive beat downs by second class “heroes”. But now Tank was agile, limber, and a trained fighter. But still, no match for Armageddon.
Armageddon stumbled forward from the impact but was quick to recover. Before he could turn to meet this new assailant, Tank unleashed a barrage of blows to his head. A quick backhand blow sent Tank sprawling down the street.
Tank was back up in less then a second. But in that time Armageddon had closed the distance. Tank dropped back down to his back and took Armageddon on his feet, tossing him over his head. Armageddon smashed to the ground and rolled to his feet. He turned to the advancing Tank. But Tank was faster than he expected and was already inside his arm length. Tank crashed into Armageddon. They both rolled together like a ball. They came apart. Tank did another half roll and came to his feet.
“Tank break off, we lost the advantage. Head to the pier. And no splash! Mr. Liquid get ready for passengers.” El Mag, a full block away from Armageddon now, unleashed everything he had in one burst. It blasted Armageddon in the back as he was moving to stand. El Mag saw Armageddon stagger forward.
Tank took the opportunity to run down the side street out onto Second Street before Armageddon could stand and turn. A clean break. He kept moving full speed toward Pier 14. “I hope you are as good as you say.”
El Mag had only a moment. This display was not to hurt or slow Armageddon, which was nearly impossible, but rather to blind him. A dazzling display of lights and sparks shot into the face of Armageddon. The flashing lights created after images and hazy shadows that threw the world into patterns of light and dark where nothing was as it seemed. El Mag took that moment to run full speed towards the Pier.
He caught a glimpse of a water logged body in an orange and yellow costume slumped against a wall. Then a blue watery hand reached up and sucked El Mag into the river.
“Which way boss? To the ocean?” Mr. Liquid said with a smile of satisfaction.
“No, they will be expecting that. Head inland and then over to the new pavilion. I have transportation waiting, for all of us.”
“Moving up stream causes more disturbance so we will have to dive deep. Hope the pressure does not make you uncomfortable.”
“Go for it.”
The trio exited the water as dry as they had entered and right next to a moving van. Tank slipped into the back, El Mag donned a Levi jacket and ball cap and moved behind the wheel.
“I will take my chances in the water, nice to meet you both.” Mr. Liquid said as he stepped back towards the river’s edge.
“Ok you three, job done to everyone’s satisfaction?” Danny said. He had monitored the action as best he could from distant surveillance cameras.
“Yep.”
“Yes.”
“Sure thing, and thank you two for helping me out of a bind. I can drop Tank near the Park. Mr. Liquid, it was a pleasure.”
“Money has been transferred, everyone is paid. I am signing off.”
“See ya, Danny.”
The van roared to life and sped away as Mr. Liquid flowed into the water.
Near the park, Tank exited into a stand of trees.
El Mag was alone. He heaved a sigh of release. He had not realized how bottled up he had been through the whole ordeal. It was getting to be too much. He knew that at his age most of the other villains had been put away for life, put down for good, or had gotten out. He was so close to one of them, he could feel it. But which one?
“Did I make the right course of action?” He thought to himself as he maneuvered the van to one of his old hideouts.
Chapter 4
I kept my secret for almost two years before my dad found out. And that revelation certainly did not go the way I had thought it would. I learned as much about my dad that day as he did about me.
I had learned some basic science about the nature of electricity and was making little sparks jump from my hand to a piece of metal lying on the ground. Nothing too sophisticated but still pretty cool. I was in the backyard and going for distance. I had seven metal stakes stepped up at different distances and was trying to hit each one. So far I could make a steady stream to about ten feet. Not bad. I am sure it would hurt like hell if I actually zapped someone.
I thought I was home alone. My parents were both workaholics. That was the price of keeping up with the Joneses. I was often left home alone, as was every kid on my block. For some reason my dad had come home early and walked into the back yard just as I had finished with a jolt to the furthest metal stake in the ground. I turned quickly when I heard the door open.
He took in the scene, and I knew that he would not be fooled with anything I said. But I had to try.
“Hey Dad. You’re home early. Uhmmm. Do you know the distance for horse-shoes?” A very lame attempt. We had played horseshoes once when we had visited Grandpa and it was the first thing that came into my head.
“No son. I don’t. But I don’t think that is what is going on out here.”
So he had not seen. But he suspected. If I kept with the horseshoe story he might believe it, or at least drop it for now. But what if I told him? What would he do, or Mom? I am sure he would tell Mom.
“Seriously Dad. I am trying to set up a horseshoe track… or pit. Whatever it is called. I was talking with the kid down the street and said I could beat him at it. He is always picking on me. You know competition stuff. Like who can run the fastest, or jump the highest. You know. I always lose. So I thought of this. Horseshoes is probably the one thing he has never heard of. So I said I could beat him any day.” I guess I was not ready to tell Dad yet. And I was on a roll.
“Well son…”
I had to push to convince him. “The park has horseshoes. I paced it off but then forgot my count. I think this is right. We are supposed to play next week. I wanted to practice in secret. Does this look about right?”
“I guess so.” He turned and walked back into the house. So he had not seen anything. But I know my story did not fool him. He would be watching me. And eventually he would find out. I had to tell him. Someday. But not yet. I was not ready yet. I wanted to be proficient or at least understand a little more about what I could do.
A few months went by. I practiced a little at a time and built up my skills. Very slowly. I took no chances. I knew my dad, and maybe my mom, were watching all the time. And then my dad confronted me. At the time I was working with the idea of static electricity; build up a nice charge, then bump into someone, and zap! they felt it. But so did I. And that was the part I was trying to improve on: Zap others with out zapping myself. I thought maybe I had zapped my dad once too often when he called me outside.
“Hey dad what’s up?”
“Not much. Just wanted to talk with you. You know man to man kind of stuff.”
Oh great the birds and bees. I had not been all that adventurous with the girls but I still did know a thing or two. At least it was THAT conversation.
“Ok dad. What kind of stuff. I pretty much know about sex and stuff already.”
“Oh yeah. Well… that is not exactly what I wanted to talk about.”
Oh no. “Um ok. Then what?”
“Well son. I think you are… um. Special. I think maybe you are not like other kids. You know what I mean?”
“Not sure that I do Dad.” Might as well feel him out and see what he did or did not know.
“I read in the paper the other day about a bank robbery where a guy actually punched through the vault wall and stole the money. I mean the strength to do that is incredible. Right?”
“Um yeah I guess so.”
“And that team of NYC police with the special powers, super speed and whatnot, that is kind of cool stuff, right?”
“Well, sure. Who would not want that kind of thing? I think it would be cool to turn invisible. What about you dad, if you could have a super power what would it be?”
“Well, son. If it could be anything I guess the Midas touch or precognition for the stock market I guess. Something useful.”
“There is more in this world beside money.”
“Ha. Says the kid that has yet to get a summer job and spend all the money that his mom and dad make. And his super power would be to be able to sneak into girls locker rooms.”
“Come on dad. I didn’t say that.” I could tell he was just ribbing me. I smiled at him and turned to walk away, thinking this would be a good time to make an escape.
“Hold on, son.”
Great, he was not done. I was not getting off that easy. I turned back to face him. He had settled into a chair beside the BBQ and was playing with the spatula that hung from the side of the grill.
We looked at each other. And I knew that he knew and I knew that he knew that I knew that he knew. It was over. Time to confess.
“Son if there is anything, I just want you to know that I will do my best to support you. I will not think different about you.”
“Sure, Dad.” I watched him. He watched me. It was my turn. “Suppose I did have something… some gift, curse… Whatever, what should I do about it? Should I even do anything about it?”
“That is a tough question. I guess if you could do something special, then what ever it is you could do might have an effect on where you go with it. I mean if you can bowl a perfect game every time, then I would suggest becoming a bowler.”
“Ha ha. But isn’t that cheating?”
“Can you bowl a perfect game?”
“No. But still…”
“I know, moral responsibility and all that. Does a quarterback cheat if he is really good and works hard with his team to make them really good? Like I said it would depend upon what you can do. If you can do anything that is.”
I looked at my dad. Our eyes locked and I saw the seriousness of the question. This was a big deal. Growing up is hard, and then putting this on top of it made it all that much harder.
“Well, son,” Dad began with that serious tone from which I knew he was going to divulge some age-old wisdom. “There are three ways you could proceed. Do nothing, just live life like everyone else. Do what would be called, ‘ good.’ Use whatever it is that you may or may not have for selfless reasons, to help others, society, country, world. Whatever. Or do what is called, ‘bad.’ Use whatever it is that you may or may not have for selfish reasons. And to tell you the truth it seems every person, if they are special or not, has to choose one of those three ways of living. That is what life is, that is what being an adult is. But most people just move through life and don’t think about it so much. They choose one of those three at a very subconscious level. In my experience most people choose number three and believe they are doing the second. I think the world would be a lot saner of a place if people were just honest. I do what I have to, to live the life I want. So yeah I guess I step on people and cheat and even lie and live out that third option very well in the career I have. But then, so is everyone else. And I like the rewards. I do not have any delusions of grandeur. Sure, when I was younger I wanted the powerful job and the big paycheck for the ‘family,’ but in time I accepted that I wanted it for me and I would do what it took to get it. Do you think those so called heroes in NYC have decided to use their abilities for ‘good’ because it was the moral thing? I doubt it. It was the safe thing to do to get fame and success, and yet make a difference. But really, that is just a spin on the third choice. They are not criminals, but they are still just as selfish.”
Did my dad just call himself a “bad guy?” And say that it was ok? I could see the slow anger rising in his eyes. He was upset that he had not gotten further in life. He was upset that being selfish did not bring the rewards he was expecting.
“But, Dad, bad guys hurt people; they don’t have regard for laws, people or property. Isn’t there a difference?”
“Sure, son. Violence for violence’s sake is a bad thing; same with willful destruction of property. Unless you are a corporation and some landmark or beautiful countryside is in the way of your next development, then you get the laws changed to say it is not destruction. Same with war and killing. Same with banks and robbery. As far as I can tell it is all a matter of perspective. I am not saying go out and do what you want. Every action has a consequence. But if you are willing to handle the consequence of your actions then why not do what is in your best interest.”
“My best interest? What about the family, or the community? How did the community recover after the guy broke down the vault and stole all the money?” Did I really need to defend a strong moral stance with my father? I was a fourteen-year-old boy. Wasn’t dad supposed to be telling me what is right and what is wrong?
“That bank was insured, the only one out anything was the federal government, and on the plus side, local contractors got work rebuilding the bank. Most often what is in your best interest is also good for the family and the community. Look at this nice house. We all share it and the community profits from the property tax. Look at the nice clothes, which employs people to make and sell. The list could be endless. Listen son. I am not saying be an asshole. Treat people with respect. Be kind and courteous. But do it in a manner that puts you ahead of the game. And if you have an edge over the other because of some special ability or something, then use it. I am not saying become a mass murderer because it makes you feel good. If you want to kill, join the military or some special forces mercenary group. You know what I mean. But when it comes to living and how you live... Well you can go through life doing nothing, you can go through life giving yourself to everyone else, or you can go through life trying to find your own happiness. It is that simple.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah wow. Not the birds and the bees, but something much more meaningful.”
“So if I have something special, then it is ok to use it to make a good life for myself? I am not obligated to use it selflessly, only obligated in helping others. The whole ‘with great power comes great responsibility thing?’”
“Son if that was true and people really believed it, then this would be a much nicer world. But it isn’t because everyone is pursuing his or her own ends. And that is fine with me.”
What was my father saying? Robbing banks was ok because they are insured? I guess it makes some sense. I see it everyday in high school. It appears normal and to be expected. But does having a special ability move me to a different moral class? Why should it? So how best could I use my ability? For selfless acts or selfish acts?
Chapter 5
That question, “Had I chosen the right course?” Stayed with El Mag for the rest of his down time as he let the city forget about his heist before he left for the countryside. He thought it was a settled question. But maybe not. Maybe it would never be.
El Mag was a successful criminal because he lived by a certain set of rules. Nothing overly dramatic: do your homework, stick to the plan as best as possible, have an exit strategy, and don’t rush it. Of course, in real life those rules turned into a code that he followed very religiously. The one he was following at the moment was the three-day wait: hiding out before making another move. Either three days or until the next “event” were what El Mag figured it would take to make a clean escape from a city after a heist with a tumble. If there was no “tumble”, that is not having hero intervention in a heist, then he would just continue the drive right on out the city limits. But if some heroes were nearby, then he knew to lay low until they were distracted with some other criminal or until they got bored.
He did not spend the three days idle. He would research his next job, make contacts and network, hone new skills if he could, and rest. But this time he could not concentrate. Too many questions kept surfacing. Did he make the right choice to go into a life of crime? How did he get spotted on this last heist? Is it too late to get out? Should he find another line of work? The questions seemed endless, but at the same time all about the same thing: his chosen career path.
At the end of the three days, the questions still plagued El Mag. As he drove to his house in the country he could not let the questions go, so he decided to prioritize them. At least it gave him a different way of looking at the same problem.
“Hi honey, I am home!” El Mag shouted as he walked into his country home. It was their standard greeting after a heist. It started as a joke, the least likely thing a criminal couple would say to one another after a job, and turned into a tradition.
“Glad to have you home. Wash up. Dinner will be on the table in five minutes.” El Mag’s wife, Dyna, said while poking her head around the corner from the kitchen to give her husband a smile.
He dutifully dropped his briefcase by the couch, glanced at the headlines on the paper, and then washed his hands in the half bath adjoining the living room. He met Dyna in the kitchen as she was pulling his favorite meal from the stovetop: bacon wrapped chicken stuffed with spinach, au gratin potatoes, and her special rolls. It smelled good; it smelled like home. They went through the normal routine without speaking much until the plates were served and they had both settled into their chairs.
She started, “I saw that you had to move some money from one of our reserve accounts.”
“Yeah, things did not go so well. Not sure what happened but had to call in some reserves. I know, I know. I don’t need a lecture, ok?” He pushed the food around his plate, not eating much.
“I know. I trust you. If you don’t want to talk about the job that is ok.” Dyna knew the look on his face. Depression. It was a frequent visitor, especially after a hard job. “You still questioning your career choice?”
He looked up startled. “You know me too well. This was a tough job and it should not have been. This should have been an easy one. And then a heavy hitter like Armageddon shows up. Makes no sense. So yeah… what if? What if…”
Dyna rested a hand on El Mag’s forearm. “I know,” she whispered. “But this is what is. I have known you for forty-five years and have been married to you for forty of them. Not once have you let me down, and not once have you tried to go straight. But always you question yourself. We have had a wonderful life together, been to many wonderful places, and done incredible things. I have no regrets about our choices. All of them.”
She is so beautiful when she is right, was the only thought that El Mag could think. He took a bite of potatoes to distract her intense stare. But she was not shaken that easily. She had always been there for him. Always. She listened to his dreams and fears. Held him on his bad days, put him back together after knockdown fights. She was always there believing in him.
“You are right, just post-heist blues I guess. Give me a few days and it will get better. I will get better.” He smiled at her.
She patted his arm and turned back to her dinner plate. They chit chatted about a few household things as they finished eating and cleared the table.
“Why don’t you grab a bottle of wine and go relax in the hot tub? I will be there in a few minutes to join you.” Dyna said as she pushed in the chairs at the table.
It was a great idea so El Mag grabbed a bottle of red and stripped out of his clothes as he made his way to the hot tub. The hot water and jets soothed away the aches and pains of the last week. The wine helped to calm his thinking. He was nice and relaxed when Dyna walked out onto the patio.
El Mag’s jaw dropped when he saw what she was wearing. It was her old, her first, criminal costume: knee high black boots, a red g-string with just a hint of a skirt, skin-tight red and blue sleeveless top, and bright yellow gloves. She still filled it out very well. She had lost very little of her sexy curves in the years since she had last worn it. With an outfit like that every criminal was trying for her number. How the hell did El Mag get lucky enough to end up with it, and her? She slowly stripped out of her costume, much to his delight, and joined him in the hot tub.
Chapter 6
“Damn, who is the lady?” I asked the first time I saw Dyna. She had just walked into the room dressed in her full costume, which accentuated her curves in all the right ways.
The criminal, Stealth, I think it was, standing next to me whispered, “That is Dynamomma. As in Dynamite meets hot momma. But stay back, way back. Back of the line. Every man in this room wants a shot with her, but from what I hear she is not giving it out to anyone.”
“Ok, listen up everyone.” That was the leader calling the room to order. He was a hot shot criminal with ideas of forming bands of thieves and criminals to spread out and take down whatever they choose. So far he had only recruited a few dozen petty criminals and a dozen or so costumed criminals. He played himself as a mastermind, but was not really all that smart. “Here is the plan. Dynamomma puts a hole in the west wall. The new guy… what’s your name? Sparky, Spazzle…?”
“No sir. I am called Shocker.”
“Ok, Shocker moves in first and disables the alarm system. The rest moves into the place. Team One stays on the perimeter. Team Two moves in to do the heavy lifting. Shocker says he can open the vault for us. If not, then Dynamomma can have a go at it. If we have to, Shrinker will move in. He will need time. So if it falls to him…”
“Sir, I can do it. No doubt. And I think I should disable the alarm before Dynamomma smashes the wall.”
“Listen, Kid, this is my gig. My team, my plan. You don’t know squat, so shut the hell up.” The leader did not take the interruption well. And the smirks from the others in the room told me that I had overstepped a line.
“Dyna is going to smash through the junction box on the wall; that will get you twenty seconds before the relays trip to the next box, located here across the room.” The leader pointed out the places on a blue print of the bank. “You can disable the alarm.”
“Yes, and open the vault.” I said with lowered head and then stepped back into the shadows.
“Good. Team Two will move into the vault and begin clearing out. I have a number of boxes that are first priority and then if time allows, we ransack whatever else we can. Team Two transports to the wall. Team One loads the vans. Team One then drives away and Team Two exits and covers the vans for the get away. Easy, simple. Everybody do their jobs and we all get rich.” He looked straight at me when he said the last line. Not only was that his token line but a way to hold it over the group. If something went wrong, then someone did not do his or her job. But this was illegal activity, meaning something always goes wrong. But, this being my first real job and the first time on a team, I did not know that yet.
I took a few peaks at Dynamomma as the leader was going over the plans. Boots, g-string, skin tight top… I did not get the costume. Very sexy and distracting. I guess that had some advantages, even heroes are human.
The group started to divide up and make their way to the van assignments. Dynamomma walked directly over to me and looked me straight in the eye. It was then that I saw the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen: deep, mystical, honest and young.
“Don’t fret,” she said.
“Yeah ok. I will do my part don’t worry about that.”
“I am not worried. At least not about you. Some of these other guys are real assholes though. They are more about the fight with the heroes or the after heist party. But don’t worry about it. Just stay focused and do your part.”
“Thanks.”
“Can you mark the exact spot of the junction box? I want to make sure to take it out.”
“That is not a problem. I can sense the flow of the electricity through the wall. I can tell you right where it is.”
“Good.” And then she walked away to join her group.
I could see all the eyes on me, filled with hate that I got a minute alone with this goddess. Too bad, so sad. I moved away to my van running through the heist in my head.
###
“Fuck that! I am telling you the alarm did not get tripped. I turned it off and I opened the safe like I said I would. This is not my fault.”
Three minutes into the heist and a band of super cops showed up. They grabbed a van as it was trying to escape. We got most of the goods and a few extras, but lost three at the scene and then the van with four more. Not good, but not my fault.
In the hustle I ended up in a van with Dynamomma, the leader and two big goons. The driver was doing a good job of getting us clear. The third van radioed that they had made a clean escape as well.