The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hey! Armor Man! Wait a second!”

I glanced back down, towards the wreckage of the compound, and spied two figures flying towards me, coming up fast. I paused, hovering a few hundred feet in the air and waited for Ultra Girl and her bedraggled partner, Wyldcard, to catch up. Frankly, I was rather impatient to leave, but all things considered, I had a moment or two to spare. Knowing the pair, I’d imagine they wanted answers. I just wasn’t sure exactly how much of the truth to tell them.

“You seem to be in a bit of a hurry,” Karen Summer noted, brushing back a strand of golden blonde, slightly singed hair. “What’s the rush? You didn’t even wait around to make sure we got out of there safely!”

“Got out safely?” I replied, slightly amused. “You razed the compound just getting in, Ultra Girl...I wasn’t too concerned about you making it out in one piece.” Indeed, her unexpected rage fueled rampage to save her partner had nearly blown my cover and jeopardized my entire fact finding mission. Still, it wasn’t a total loss. Hacking into MacDonald’s computer from the inside had provided me with very exact data on what Duncan was planning, and the threat of leaving him to the two spurned heroine’s ‘not-so- tender’ mercies had prompted him to give up the location of his employer. That said, I wouldn’t put it past Duncan to be aware of what happened here, and to already be in the process of relocating.

Luckily, I already had a little something in the works to keep him in my crosshairs.

“Oh, and thanks by the way,” Wyldcard replied, looking more the worse for wear than her partner, especially considering the days of torture she’d endured at the demented doctor’s hands. “You know...for coming to my rescue? You were there at that compound all this time, and you didn’t release me, why? To keep your cover intact?”

I winced slightly at the accusation. True, I had become aware of her situation in the course of my investigation, and had opted not to charge in, guns blazing—but I’d only discovered it a few hours prior to, not days earlier as she was implying. Although, to be fair, if I had known she was there earlier...would I have let her stay trapped just to get the information I needed? I didn’t like the obvious answer to that question, so I pushed it aside for the moment.

“Lass, I wasn’t around as long as you think. I only infiltrated the compound a few hours ago. And truly, it is mere luck that I was on site to aid you both when I did, otherwise MacDonald would have made good his escape.” I glanced meaningfully at the redhead. “And, pardon my curiosity and change of subject, but since when are you able to fly, lass?”

Elise Stewart blinked, caught off guard by my question. “F...fly? That’s what’s you’re concerned with? When I learned how to fly?”

“Well, in our last encounter, you were still struggling to learn control of your powers,” I pointed out calmly, “and flying was not one of them. Teleportation, yes. Flight, no. That saying, I wondered why you simply didn’t teleport out of the lab and to safety during the little diversion I used to gain entrance? I cut power to the entire facility for several seconds...more than enough time for you to free yourself.”

“Apparently, the good doctor thought ahead, and had a separate backup generator installed in the lab for just such an occasion,” Wyldcard said wearily. “Well...never mind. I guess I can’t be too upset with you, after all. I’m free, and I’m alive, and I got to give MacDonald a bit of payback for everything he did to me...with twenty years of interest added on!”

I winced again, trying and failing to ignore the blood stains on her hands. “Yes, well...seeing as your are both safe and sound, I should depart now. The information I managed to obtain from the compound is somewhat time sensitive, and I have a few more stops to make.”

I turned to leave, but again, Karen moved to block my way. “Okay, yes, I understand that...but you still haven’t explained what you were doing there in the first place! Why were you tracking MacDonald? What does any of what’s been going on in Crystal City the past few months have to do with you?”

Crystal City? I searched my memory of current events and news flashes over the past several weeks, frowning as I immediately noticed the pattern. Blast yer hide, Duncan! Do ye nae have a speck of honor within ye at all? Nodding, I answered aloud. “You could say that, yes. But I’m after the man behind MacDonald...the one pulling his strings.“

“The one behind...” Ultra Girl repeated, eyes widening in shock. “Shit...I should have known this went deeper than just that mad scientist wannabe. Well, count us in. We’re with you, Armor Man. Maybe if we work together to track down this mysterious mastermind, we can find the rest of those poor girls he abducted.”

“Yeah...and find peace for the rest of them,” Wyldcard muttered softly, staring off into the distance.

“Ladies,” I said steeling myself for a fight, “while I appreciate the sentiment and the offer, I am afraid I must decline. This is something that I must do alone. You would be best served returning home to Crystal City, where you can do the most good. There are elements in play that you cannot begin to imagine—”

“You’re turning down our help?” Wyldcard yelled, panting slightly, beginning to struggle to stay airborne. “What? We’re not good enough to help you or something?“

“No, no, it’s not that—”

“It’s that you think we’ll slow you down, is that it?” Ultra Girl asked, joining the argument. “You have some nerve, pal! Just because your IQ is in the triple hundreds doesn’t mean the rest of us are retarded, you know!”

Okay. This was going nowhere. I was trying to be diplomatic, but I really needed to leave. They were nice girls, and true heroines, deserving of respect. But I was beginning to get fed up with having to explain myself to people that couldn’t begin to understand, even if I had the time and energy to explain my brother Duncan. Well meaning or not, these two would not be a help, they’d be a detriment.

“Ladies,” I said, raising my hands, pointing my pulse cannons at both of them. Before they could react, I fired, point blank, causing both women to cry out in shock. Several feet behind them, the two RPG shells, fired from the surface by the few soldiers still on their feet, exploded harmlessly short of their target. “Forgive the theatrics, I scanned you both momentarily and set the frequency of my hyperionic disrupter to match your bodies’ energy signature, causing the rays to pass through you both harmlessly and destroy only the missiles. But I trust I made my point?” Activating a small device on my wrist, I fired again, sending a small round globe back towards the surface. “What I am dealing with is on a whole new level to anything you two have dealt with in the past. If you truly want to help me, then go to River City, and look after my family.”

Far below, a bright flash lit up the night sky. Elise and Karen turned, shielding their eyes as a bright white glare swept silently over the compound. When the glare finally faded, all was still and silent, all of the fires dispersed, and all of the soldier below lying face down on the ground, motionless and still.

“Oh my god...what did you do?” Wyldcard shrieked, staring back at me in horror. “What the hell was that? Did you kill them?!?“

“I did what was necessary,” I answered back, simply, saying nothing more. “If you want to follow me, you had better be prepared to do the same. Otherwise, you should turn around right now and head for home.” With that, I departed, leaving the two of them hovering in place.

I was tired. Exhausted, really.

Little wonder that. I’d been burning the candle at both ends since leaving home several weeks ago. Besides the late nights and constant moving about, my sleep was troubled by disturbing dreams...as if my subconscious was intent on having its say about some of my rather questionable decisions of late. Deny yourself during your waking hours, turn your back on your conscience all ye like, but when the day is done, all you have left is yourself, and try as you might, ye cannae run from yourself.

I was always a man who tried to do what was right by my fellow man. I worked and toiled and tinkered long hours to be a benefit to society. When I first came to this country, I wanted to prove myself, prove that I was the best in the business. I designed and built machine, gadgets and gizmos, some good, some not to good. Show me a radio, and I could create a better one. Give me a gun, and I would design something even better. It wasn’t a super power or anything, just knowledge and skill, and a burning desire to prove to everyone, and to myself, that my existence was justified.

And then...I discovered exactly what all of my wonderful high tech inventions were being used for. It’s one thing to create a powerful weapon for use by the police or the military, to protect our country and our neighborhoods from threats, but when those self same weapons start ending up in the hands of every Tom, Dick, and Harry with a pocket full of money and connections...when the very same people I wanted to help and protect started to be hurt and killed by the inventions I created...Suffice it to say, I had a crisis of conscience. I took my company and turned it in a whole new direction. I began branching out into other fields, communications, exploration, industry, medicine. And, since I was rather good at making weapons, I turned my energies there to making non-lethal alternatives. The share holders freaked, my board of directors panicked, but I held firm to my ideals, and slowly but surely, people started to respect my new view. Business continued on as before, and I simply let Draupnir, and Braxton, and GrimTech take up the slack in the weapons department. I stuck to my morals.

Aye...and now I’m betraying those self same morals, I thought dimly as I stood outside my office building, on the roof of the heliport. I’ve made a lot of sacrifices for my family and friends over the years...including some very personal ones. And I’m doing things now that I swore to myself that I would never do. But...what choice do I have? My brother has backed me into a corner...and the only way out of this is to fight my way through. I glanced up as the door opened, and a familiar man dressed in a black business suit approached carrying a briefcase. I sighed inwardly, sliding on a pair of sunglasses. This wasn’t going to be pleasant, but it had to be done.

“Do ye have the device I asked for?” I said without prompting.

“You know I do,” Parker Albinn replied with venom, tapping the metal suitcase lightly with the palm of his hand. “You don’t think I came all the way out here just to shoot the shit, do you?”

Considering his feelings on the matter, I wouldn’t have put it past him. “Parker, lad, I ken how ye feel, but—”

“No, you obviously don’t know how I feel about this,” he cut in tersely. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have made me to do this.” He turned away, looking skyward. “Why, of all the people in the city, in this state, in this whole entire world, would you even CONSIDER going to him for help?“

“Because I have no other choice,” I said wearily, yet again, for the near hundredth time. “Ye ken that! I’ve done my homework. I’ve checked around. He is the ONLY one who has what I need. Technology is my skill, Parker. It’s what I know. If it’s mechanical, or electronic, then I can do it. But for this...in biological and genetic matters, I’m a rank amateur at best. And say what you will about the man, but in this department at least he has skills that I lack. I have to do business with him.”

“And is that all this is? Just ‘business’?” he fired back, angrily, his body beginning to pulse slightly in anger. Most Supers’ abilities were directly tied to their emotional states, and Parker’s emotions were close to the boiling point right now. “You know what he is!” he shouted, and I winced, stumbling back slightly, his voice carrying just a trace of his sonic power. “He’s a devil...a demon in an eleven hundred dollar suit!”

“Parker,” I said trying to keep my calm, even though I agreed with him on hundred percent, “I know the kind of man he is. That’s why I asked for the device for me. Believe me when I say that I know who I am dealing with—”

“But you’re STILL dealing with him!” Parker roared, his powers kicking on in full, a pulsing vibrating nimbus of pure sonic energy surrounding him. “The man is scum! He should be taken down, once and for all! What’s worse, you could have taken him out at any time, and yet you LET HIM continue on, sitting in his goddamn Ivory Tower, like the fucking king of the world—”

“ENOUGH!” I roared back, tapping a small button on my watch, activating the sonic neutralizer in my suit. If he flew off the handle and actually attacked, his sonic energy would disperse before reaching me. Not that I thought he would go that far, but as before, I like to cover all my bases. “Dinnae preach to ME about responsibility, lad! Yer upset because YOU feel responsible for those two lassies...you regret ensnaring them in that mess years ago and never making amends when ye had the chance! Well, it’s too late for that now. Far too late. The past is past, Parker Albinn, and if ye plan to live in this world, ye’d best learn from the past, then let it go, and worry about the present!” I sighed softly, seeing the rage in his eyes turn to deep dark anguish.

“I ken, lad,” I said softly after a moment. “I sympathize, I really do. But ye can only help someone who WANTS to be helped. You’re not a solo hero anymore, lad. You have a wife and daughter to worry about now. Trying to take Grimalde down would only put you and your family in risk.” I smirked slightly. “You’re already taking a risk as it is by simply meeting with me now. Depending on how my meeting goes, we might all find ourselves dragged into a senseless ugly battle. But rest assured, lad. He will get what’s coming to him one day. We all do. For good or for ill, we all reap what we sow.”

Picking up the suitcase, I activated my armor, letting it sweep over my form, and prepared to lift off for my meeting. “We all reap what we sow, do we?” Parker shot back, as he turned to leave. “And what about you. Gene? You’ve hardly acted like a saint these past few weeks. What about you, then? What kind of harvest will you reap when this is all over and done with?”

A most bitter one, lad, I thought grimly as I flew off into the sky. A most bitter harvest indeed...

Nigel Grimalde walked calmly into his office, a stack of reports in his arm, the current numbers and today’s schedule fully on his mind when he noticed abruptly that he wasn’t alone. I can’t say much positive about the man, but I do give credit where credit is due. Aside from freezing in place for a moment before recognizing my face, he didn’t react in the slightest. He calmly continued forward, walking past me to take his seat behind his desk.

“Good morning Nigel,” I said cheerfully, making a show of taking a deep swig of wine from the glass on his desk. “I hope you don’t mind, but I let myself in. I did you the courtesy of checking your morning schedule, and as your next meeting isn’t for the next...” glancing down at my wrist scanner, “...thirty-seven minutes, I thought we could have a chat. You know, businessman to businessman. I have a small favor to ask.”

“Well,” said Grimalde, shuffling and sorting his reports without even glancing up, “at the moment you’re interrupting my prep time for that meeting you mentioned. I have,” glancing at his watch, “thirty-FIVE minutes to read 80 pages of competitive analysis on new biotech firms in the PRC. It’s not life or death, but I have several department heads whose bonuses will hinge on this work. I’m sure that they would be less than pleased with your interruption.”

Suddenly Nigel looked up. “What is that tag line your daughter uses? ‘The Light of Justice’?” he smirked, “How does this power play of yours measure up in that light right now, Frasier? Trespassing on private property without warning or permission just because you have the power to do so? Just because no one can stop you? Illegally tapping into a private business network just to score some...juvenile point about knowing my schedule? This is the kind of crap that Al Capone was famous for pulling back in the day. He did it just to unnerve people, just to show that he could. Look, ‘Al’, I don’t have time for games. If you have something to say to me, say it. I’M BUSY.”

Huh. Annoyingly antagonistic, as expected, but at least he came to the point fairly quick. “Interesting that you went to Al Capone, lad...considering your own ‘extra-curricular’ activities—”

“Exactly what are you accusing me of, ‘old man’?”

“Are ye asking me to spell it out in so many words? Ye’re Blackfinger, undercover crime boss of local repute. Although ye hardly need to bother with that black mask; yer public persona is well nigh as dirty as ‘his’, and ye’re nae quite so ugly that ye must needs hide yer face.”

“I think I’ve had about enough of that. If you spout these lies publicly, I’ll bring a slander suit against you big enough that even you will have to take notice. Furthermore, you have your own secrets to consider. ‘Armor Man’? Husband of ‘Omega Girl’? Father of ‘Luminaire’? Who was recently involved in a Miami prostitution ring? Or need I mention your son ‘Umbra’ or whatever he’s calling himself now? The one who killed a young family and then went on a five-state crime spree?”

“Ye had best trod carefully with my family, lad—”

“And you with mine, old fella. Why don’t you drop the crude accusations and state your business? If you have any.”

“SIGH The direct approach, then? Verra well. You have something that I want. And I am prepared to pay to obtain it.“

Reaching down, I lifted the heavy metal briefcase from the floor, placing it on my lap. “Forestalling any comments about the slander ye just uttered about my son for the moment...”

“I’m only repeating what I read in the papers, so if it’s slander it’s someone else’s slander, not mine.”

“Then ye need to stop reading month-old news, or start reading printed retractions. I’ve nae time nor patience to educate you on matters of public record. But back to the BUSINESS at hand, I happen to know that your lovely VP of Research and Development recently made a breakthrough, a prototype gene splicing-recombination serum...useful for bonding specific chemical and genetic properties to a subject, such as, say, permanently bending a young girl’s mind and enslaving their will?” I glanced at him, eyebrow raised in question. “I don’t doubt there are other possibly beneficial applications for such a serum, I just can’t conceive of any that would be worth the monetary efforts used to produce it. Again, I dinnae care. What you do in the privacy of your own company and home is your business. My own uses for it would be purely personal, having nothing to do with you. I, however, want that serum, and of the myriad number of options in obtaining it, I decided to try simple civil negotiations. In essence, Nigel, I wish to make a trade.”

Grimalde reached for his intercom button.

“Constance...”

“Yes, Mr. Grimalde?”

“Please reschedule my 2:30. Something has come up.”

“Of course, sir. What shall I tell Mr. Jono? He flew out from Osaka for this.”

Nigel glared at me, but continued, “When can you get me two hours again?”

“Not until...Friday, sir.”

“Damn. Let me think.”

Grimalde’s stare intensified. I tapped the briefcase and stared back.

“Is Curtis Lefevre on the Tour this week? No, he’s not; I’m sure of it. He told me this was his downtime before the Masters. Have him put together a foursome with Jono-san, tomorrow or Thursday. Some place scenic. And expensive. Mackenzie Downs should do. Remind Curtis that he owes me one.”

“Um, yes, sir, certainly. Will there be anything else, sir?”

“Write up a suitable apology, one that Jono-san’s ancestors would find acceptable. Hell, one that YOURS would find acceptable. I’ll need you to coach me through it later. Oh, and block out the next two and a half hours as, ah, ‘strategic meditation’,” he said, glancing at me once again. Odd phrasing, that, but he continued, “That will be all, Ms. Yamanohana.”

“Yes, sir.”

Suddenly my suit telemetry began demanding my attention. It was detecting human heat signatures moving into place behind the domed ceiling of Grimalde’s cavernous office. Of course, I thought, “strategic meditation” was some sort of code word. But he cannae be foolish enough to think that fifteen men with rifles, even pulse rifles, could possibly take down Armor Man. Can he? I’d best just let this play out. Should he try to start some daft war I still have...other ways.

Along with the telemetry there was something else too, an odd tingling in the back of my head. I resolved to check my suit AI when I got home. I cannae have a glitch. Not at this stage of the game.

“Okay, ‘old man’,” said Grimalde, “you actually have some of my time now. Let’s not waste it. That research, done under my brilliant and talented Senior VP of R&D, Angela Prentiss, has yielded a suite of drugs that may be able to reverse Alzheimer’s. And another spinoff that may help autistic children lead somewhat normal lives is currently in clinical trials. If you don’t think there is enough money in that to justify the research, then you truly don’t understand the pharmaceutical business. But, then, I wouldn’t expect you to. Your distasteful accusations of ‘mind control’ are particularly offensive. You should know how we Grimaldes feel about that kind of thing. Three of your closest friends are closet mind-controllers, and my wife has them all under restraining orders to stay the hell away from me and mine. And then there are your kids. Don’t get me started on your kids. If you’re so hot to get hold of something that you can use to dick with little girl’s heads, it seems to me that you have a lot of other options. So pardon me if I don’t trust your motives here.“

“My patience has limits, lad,” I responded, my voice low and dangerous. “Ye should nae push them.”

“Well, you’re the one who came to me and interrupted my work day, so I’m sure you’ll manage somehow. Okay, Frasier, here’s what I want. First, you have to tell me what you are going to do with the serum. Whatever you think about me the fact is I have a responsibility. I can’t just give it to you because you’re willing to throw a wad of cash at me. Convince me. Then, and only then, do I want to hear what you’re offering. You better have something pretty damn impressive in that brief case.“

I had taken enough abuse from this windbag. Negotiations be damned. I’d known the kind of person I was dealing with before coming here, but this was beyond even MY patience levels. “Alright then, BLACKFINGER. If you want to put all yer cards on the table at once, I can certainly oblige you! What I plan to do with that serum is NONE of yer BLOODY BUSINESS. Secondly, I happen to have a number of things in this briefcase, but let me start with the first.” Reaching inside, I removed a small but powerful handheld PDA, and pointed it towards the wall. Grimalde merely raised an eyebrow as his private view screen slid into place, unimpressed at my ability to hack his systems. His expression changed, however, as the recorded images began to play, showing a much younger Seraph sweeping into this very office, breaking in on a business meeting, demanding his help to find her missing partner. I fast forwarded through the hours of footage, merely noting the highlights, then stopped, placing the PDA back into my jacket pocket.

“Do ye still wish to take the moral high road in this conversation, Nigel?” I asked, facing him glare for glare. “Try and call it ‘slander’ if ye like, but that only applies when it’s nae true. I own a telecommunications conglomerate with six orbiting satellites, man...did ye honestly think I couldnae find out ANYTHING about ye that I didnae want to know?” I shook my head at him in disgust. “Frankly, I think it bad taste to hold onto footage like that...‘for sentimental reasons’ or whatever. I’ve known about what you did to those poor deluded girls for DECADES! And it’s only the tip of the iceberg. I have solid irrefutable evidence linking you to a few hundred other crimes ranging from everything to industrial sabotage and kidnapping to simple jaywalking. Look into my eyes, Nigel. Tell me I’m bluffing!”

Nigel, shaken, but still sensing a play here, merely nodded, clapping softly. “Bravo. You’re quite the detective. Or, hacker. Or spy. Whatever moniker fits the situation. I do respect, immensely, the talent that it took to put together that little presentation. And, between the two of us, I will not dispute the truth of any of it. However, I’m going to tell you something else that we both know to be true, and I want you to know that I mean no disrespect. But I want you to respect and understand my abilities too. Given enough time and only a small fraction of my overall resources, I could manufacture equally convincing evidence that you...oh, I don’t know...tie up and beat your wife every night. But I won’t quibble; it’s clear that you believe that you have me dead to rights. So, tell me, Frasier, why hasn’t a man of your...reputation used this evidence to shut down an eeeevil villain like me?”

I took a deep breath, considering my words. Carrot and stick, Eugene. I’d just broken the stick over the man’s head. Now I needed to pull back and offer the carrot. “Let’s nae kid ourselves by pretending we like each other, Nigel. I personally think you are the lowest kind of scum for what you did to those girls—“

He interrupted, “Well, so much for mutual respect.”

I darkened more but held my voice level and calm, “What my wife and I do with each other in the privacy of our bedroom is our business, and none of your concern, but at least I can honestly say it’s completely CONSENSUAL!” Ach, that was a mistake. His expression changed completely. Clearly he thought me so straight-laced that I would be shocked by his bedroom fantasy about Lacie and myself. Until I opened my mouth he never would have believed he had struck so close to the truth. Damn.

“Well,” mumbled Grimalde, “Ya think ya know a guy...”

Nothing for it now but to follow through and give him both barrels. “Had I been around at that time, twenty years back, I probably would have stormed the gates and shut you down, hard. Unfortunately, I wasnae here. I spent two bloody years floating in space with minimal life support at the end of that whole Argentum Project debacle. By the time I returned, the damage was already done. And with two of my former friends firmly under your thumb, and the identities of myself and my extended family known to you, I was content to simply watch and wait, to see whether losing our anonymity was worth taking you down. And honestly, had you continued your wicked way, or escalated into restarting the slave market, capturing and selling abducted girls for profit, then aye...we would have paid that cost and gladly.”

I sighed, slightly, leaning forward. “But, to my surprise, you didn’t. Having obtained your prize, you were content to go back to your usual fare, legitimate business, with a few shady deals on the side. Even moreso, despite your...ahem...creative revamping of their Super personas, you let Avenging Angel and Seraph continue to work as costumed heroes. That frankly confused me. I’d always thought your view on the costumed crowd was ‘decidedly against’.” I shrugged. There was a loud thump from outside the oaken double doors, but we both ignored it. “Nevertheless, with you content to commit relatively small crimes and have your thralls actually contribute to society and do some good, I thought it better to leave ye alone...to simply keep a watchful eye on ye in case things changed.”

We turned to face the main doors as the noise outside the office grew. Suddenly the doors slammed open, and two young ladies entered.

“Mrs. Grimalde!” shouted the comely young oriental lass, “You can’t come in here right now!” I could nae but reflect that it was passing nice now to have a pretty face to associate with the voice from the intercom. Yamanohana...Constance is an interesting first name, though.

“Can it, Constance. I have to,” said the other, who I now recognized as Seraph, or whatever fool thing she started calling herself after Grimalde sunk his filthy claws into her.

No, she’s “retired” now, I recalled, Ach, how lovely it would be to be able to “retire”. And what was her day job? Federal prosecutor or some such? The lass certainly looked the part of the high-powered lawyer, used to throwing her weight around.

“Armor Man,” said the young brunette, “you have exactly two minutes to vacate these premises before I call the cops. If you think you can just waltz in here and accuse my husband of being some sort of criminal, you have another think coming. I will rip you a new asshole large enough that you’ll believe Stonewall had butt-fucked you. Every police officer, every FBI agent, every judge in this state owes me. Big time. And I will call in all those favors and more if you so much as give my husband a dirty look!”

I’d had just about enough of this, but as I opened my mouth to reply she turned to Nigel. If anything, the lass looked to be more livid with him than she was with me!

“And YOU,” she yelled, “What were you THINKING? This ‘hero’,” she said, the word practically dripping with contempt, “knows who you are! And you sit and talk with him like it’s nothing? If this tin-plated old man—“ I swear, if one more person called me old in the next few minutes, I was going to Armor Up and show these people just how old I was! “—decided that the world would be better off without you he could pound you into a greasy paste without breaking a sweat. Is that what you want? Well let me tell you what I want! I want you to walk Justine down the aisle one day when she gets married. I want you to hand the ‘keys of the kingdom’ to Robbie when he’s old enough. I want you to take your grandkids fishing some day. I want you to live. Is that too much to ask?“

“Patricia,” said Nigel.

“Nigel, don’t start—”

“Patty, listen to me.“

The girl gasped, “You...you haven’t called me ‘Patty’ in over 20 years. Not since you, you...”

Not since he’d raped her, mind, body, and soul, and twisted the poor deluded girl into his personal love thrall? But...it was strange. The scene occurring in front of me was unexpected, but interesting. I resolved to keep my mouth shut for the moment and watch.

“I want to make sure I have your attention. Do I?”

She nodded.

“I have no intention of dying, none whatsoever. But I can’t live, I can’t be the man you and the kids need me to be, without taking risks. Mr. Frasier and I have some common interests. Business interests. We need to talk about them. We need to explore them. But we can’t say the things we need to say with the Chief Prosecutor for the 9th Circuit in the room. Darling, I’m touched...I’m overwhelmed by your fierce desire to protect me. I love you. But you have to leave. Now.“

“But Nigel...”

He stood. He hugged her. This was nae an act. Clearly, incredibly, unbelievably, these two were in love. It was an effort not to let my jaw hit the bloody floor! He drew her close and whispered in her ear, “Do I have to make it an order? In front of this man?“

Patricia Grimalde shook her head. “No...no, Nigel, you don’t. I’ll...I’ll go.”

“Patricia,” I said after a moment, standing up, “Mrs. Grimalde,” I said formally, bowing slightly. I was still a Scot, after all, and insulting she might be, she was still a fair lass.

She had already turned to go, but she looked a question at Nigel. He nodded. She could stay to hear me out. She turned to face me, but her visage had nae any of the tenderness she had just shown her man.

“I want ye to be aware of a few things before ye leave. First of all...I am sorry. Sorry that I wasnae here...that neither Lacie or I were around when you and Angela needed help. That fact has weighed heavily on all of us for a long time. I ken there’re bad blood between you and Parker...aye, and the rest of us. But it doesnae have to be that way. I can see, NOW,” glancing at Nigel, “that despite HOW you came to this place, you are happy. You’ve found love from an most unexpected place. You love your husband, and you’re loyal to him. I can respect that. So, I can promise ye, if nothing else, that no one will try and ‘rescue’ you or Angela, or the others. I’ll be sure they ken the situation is nae nearly as dire as we once believed.”

“’Not nearly as di—’” She paused and shook her head in disbelief. “You pompous, self-righteous son of a bitch! The day I landed on THAT BALCONY,” said she, pointing to the open space through yon glass wall behind me, “was one of the best days of my life! It ranks right up there with the day this man, this proud, proud man, got down on his knees and BEGGED me to marry him. You have footage of that too, don’t you? Or doesn’t that help your case any? If you want to pick a day when I could have actually used your help, it would have been the day that your good buddy Parker enslaved me to that bitch Venus Satore. You think you’re my FRIEND? I didn’t even know your identity, OR Lacie’s, until Parker started outing everybody to everybody else for his ‘goddess’. Neither of us had ever been in your home, or you to ours, although you and Angela certainly moved in the same upper crust circles for years. You’re not my friend, and you never will be as long as you are the enemy of my family. I don’t need your ‘help’. I certainly don’t need your pity. I won’t put up with your bullshit and I don’t have to. Don’t. Fuck. With. Me.”

I opened my mouth to respond but it would have been useless, I would have been speaking only to her retreating back. So I waited until she was well and truly gone. Wee Constance held the door for her, but Grimalde motioned for his assistant to stay.

“Ach, lass...” I said softly shaking my head. “Grimalde,” I said without venom, weary from the struggle and the disappointment in Patricia’s response, “ye’re a right bloody bastard for what ye did to her. I’ve no doubt that yer programming altered her memories of how she came to belong to ye—made it seem as a ‘beautiful, lovely event’...or that ye purposely kept her and Angela away from us, purposely caused a rift.” I shook my head. “The lass will never be the sweet young girl I remember...and yer to blame for that.” I stared his directly in the eyes. “That said...the fact that you’ve made her happy...that ye both truly, honestly love each other...makes me hate you a hell of a lot less.”

“First of all, Frasier, " he replied, “I can tell you were never really that close to her when I hear you describe her as a ‘sweet young girl’. Practically from the day she was born, she was a loud-mouthed, foul-mouthed, smart-ass tomboy, and I say that looking at her though the eyes of love. Second, and it’s important to me that you believe this, I guarantee you, she hasn’t...forgotten...a thing.”

“I would imagine YOU know all about her childhood, considering her AGE when you abducted her,” I shot back, bristling. “But aye...you have a point, albeit a small one. True, I knew them both ONLY as their costumed counterparts. I was never as close with her or Angela as I could have been. Aye, Angie was a wealthy socialite, and made the rounds...but I was hardly a playboy.” I scowled at him. “Look at the two of us, Nigel! We’re both billionaires, and this is the first time we’ve ever sat down for a chat in all this time. My point? NONE of us traveled in the same circles. Hell, man, until Parker inadvertently outed us all, revealing all of our identities, NONE of us were particularly close. It wasn’t until your intervention, taking the pair of them as yer slaves, that there was even a need to circle the wagons and form a community! I knew Lacie...she knew Eva...and Parker was Eva’s nephew. But it wasn’t until Avenging Angel and Seraphim disappeared that we actually consolidated.” I smirked slightly at that. “In a weird twisted sort of way, I suppose I have you to thank for that.”

Kneeling down to retrieve the case, I opened it, removing the second thing I’d asked Parker for, a lightweight gun, pointing it at Grimalde. “At any rate, laddie, we still have a deal to broker. And it is an offer ye wilnae refuse.”

As expected my armor activated the nanosecond my chest came alive with little red dots. Telemetry reported 10 sighting on my chest and 6 on my helmet’s forehead. Wait...6? But there were only 15 heat signatures. I took a chance glancing away from Nigel and saw wee Constance holding her pistol steady upon me, showing quite the well-trained stance. Was she one of his “special girls” too? She was certainly as protective of him as his other girls. ’Twas nae that surprising, really. The shock came, however, when Grimalde jumped, nae at me, but into the line of fire.

“Jeezus H...STAND DOWN, YOU IDIOTS! STAND THE FUCK DOWN! Didn’t you hear who this is? You’ll kill me with the ricochets, and you won’t even scratch his armor! HE’S NOT GONNA SHOOT ME! Constance, he’s not gonna shoot me, right?”

The lass carefully pulled down her piece, and said, “It’s like I told you earlier sir, I can’t read him very well. He has some sort of interference pattern. It’s not exactly a shield; it’s more like a scrambler. I’m just getting garbage for thoughts, but the emotions are coming across loud and clear. I can tell you that he’s very angry.”

Ach, beautiful, deadly, smart, and telepathic too. Well at least my mental “hardening” seemed to be holding. I’ll have to find a way to thank Eva, again, the next time I see her. I guess my Intel needs to be updated. I wonder when he managed to acquire his own pet psychic? That certainly explains the tingling I felt off and on since the intercom call. She’s been trying, and failing, to probe my mind.

“Eugene, if you don’t want the Feds coming after you, you’re not going to shoot me.” Ach, so he DID know my first name after all. Just the first time using it aloud. Hmmm. Interesting. “If word of this got out, you would be a national fugitive. You’re not an idiot. Surely that’s not why you came here today.”

Of course I hadn’t intended to shoot the man. Surely he knew that. His reaction was a bit odd, however. Perhaps ’twas all a show for his men? Still playing the calm, cool, in-control commander...or something more perhaps? Either way, it was my turn to play my role. Without lowering the weapon I responded, “Grimalde, I’ll say this once. Ye must reign that girl’s head back in. Do NOT, either of ye, think to even HINT at threatening me and mine again. Ye think what happened to Brian Chang was brutal, you haven’t seen anything yet! Yer wife thinks that she has ‘connections in this town’? I have connections throughout this entire country. One call to the Director of Homeland Security, and Patricia, AND Angela, will be taken away from you on suspicion of being in league with terrorists. And they can hold them indefinitely without habeas corpus on suspicion alone until THEY are satisfied.”

He replied with a strange smile for a man standing between me and 16 bullets, “Eugene, I know you’re not used to this, but dammit, you’re not the ONLY billionaire in the room. I know Bill Walters personally. We’re golf buddies. I was the second biggest contributor to his gubernatorial campaign, both the first one and for his reelection. You can try to fuck with Patricia, or even Angela. Hell, you could probably even take them out somehow. But it won’t be through the DHS...or the FBI...or the CIA. Now, having said that, I will talk to her, but it would help your cause a lot more if you would stop threatening me and looking at me like something you wiped off your shoe.”

I barely hid my grin. I didn’t know what he was up to, but Grimalde was talking out of his arse. Walters was the Vice President, true, but in the grand scheme of things, he was a small fish in a big ocean, and we both knew it. Still, if this was about saving face, we’d both made our points. In this little chess match, I could indeed clean out his entire side of the board, he was merely reminding me that to do so would cost me, possibly more than I cared to pay. Damn him...I was beginning to actually LIKE the scoundrel, despite myself.

I reversed the grip on the weapon, holding it by the barrel, holding it out to him. So far, so good. “Oh, I dinnae threaten, Nigel. And I do not bluff. I make simple statements of fact.” Once he had the gun in his hands and my systems reported the snipers target lock lifting, I knelt down to retrieve the case. “Of course, since we are all FRIENDS here now...or at least business partners, there’s no need for hostilities on either part, is there? Oh...and that gun? It’s a present...the incentive I mentioned for making this deal. But if you don’t mind I would prefer a wee mite more privacy for the REST of our discussion.”

Grimalde turned and spoke to his ceiling, “Everybody out, NOW! Constance, you stay. Eugene, she knows all my secrets. She’s my right arm. She’ll find out everything that was said today whether she’s here or not, but it’s more convenient for me if she stays.”

My telemetry showed them all leaving. It was clear that my mental hardening was holding against the wee telepath. I saw no harm. I nodded my assent, even as I initiated the command to disable all communication systems and recording devices in the area...as well as any orbiting satellite systems overhead.

And so now it was truly time to get down to cases, “Nigel, I am quite aware of your profit margins of late.”

“Not surprising,” said he, “It’s been in the news. GrimTech’s a public company.”

“Aye. And GrimTech is floundering a bit in the market right now, trying to compete with Braxton Industries. Braxton pretty much dominates the weapons and technology market right now, with Frasier Industries currently sidelined by government regulated restructuring,” I replied, the words bitter in my mouth. “Recently, Braxton seems to be having troubles due to a certain highly classified military contract that fell through when a terrorist cell hijacked the shipment. I am officially out of the weapons development business...but that little seemingly simple weapon in your hand could easily put me right back into the game...or move your company out to the front of the pack.”

Nigel looked the pistol over, intrigued, but still playing down his interest. “A gun? You want the only prototype of a drug that could bring my pharmaceutical company back into the black...for a single gun? I’m sorry. Constance...did someone stamp ‘idiot’ on my forehead when I wasn’t looking?”

Sighing softly, I reached over, snatching the gun from his hands, and taking aim, fired a quick barrage of shots about the office, taking care not to hit anything valuable, and, despite the temptation, avoiding both Nigel and his assistant. Expecting her to respond in kind, my AI armored me up in an instant, but she only took aim. Nigel was shaking his head “No”, so she held her fire. Well-trained indeed.

“Easy, lass, easy,” I said placatingly. “Just making a point. Here,” I said simply, placing the gun back in Nigel’s hands, and willing my armor off once more. I took a step back and spread my arms. “I think I demonstrated effectively that it’s a real working weapon. Nigel, if you please, try and shoot me.”

“Why, but of course, Eugene,” he said with a laugh in his voice, “anything to help.” He clearly expected my armor to repel the shots, but what actually happened shocked him. Pulling the trigger, he frowned, scowling as the gun refused to fire. He pulled the trigger again several more times, to no effect.

“A nifty little innovation,” I replied, taking the gun back briefly, firing it into the remains of a sofa across the room before handing it back once again. “DNA coding on the grip. This gun will only fire specifically for the person it is encoded to. A small seam in the back of the handle takes an SD card to hold the data. As to the gun itself, it is a new model handheld stun blaster based on research I did into Lacie’s powers a few years back. It fires a close approximation to her Omega Beams, in that it can temporarily disable the electrical impulses in a person or device without killing them. I’ve included all relevant schematics and data on replicating the weapons, and to sweeten the deal,” I added, gesturing to the case, “I have even included two pair of glove mounted prototype versions for your...ahem, winged bodyguards, to integrate into their costumes.” I raised an eyebrow at the business mogul. “So...are ye interested now, Nigel?”

Grimalde paused, considering carefully, glancing over the schematics as well as the glove mounted stunners I’d handed him. Truth be told, it was a bona fide windfall for the man, and we both knew it. Angela’s little discovery did have all of the possible medical applications he’d mentioned, but cost and production of it on a large scale was completely unrealistic—it would be so expensive to manufacture that no one could afford it, and he would lose millions in the attempt. No...the true intended application of that serum would by strictly personal. And that, likely, was the one thing holding him back.

“Angela has had a team working the ‘loyal firearm’ problem for years. She tells me that the only promising route to instant DNA analysis as a solution would be through nanite technology that’s decades in advance of today’s best known systems. Are you telling me that this pistol incorporates neural-netted, high-speed nanites? And that they’re a part of the deal too?” Then he stopped and shook his head. “Frasier...Eugene...I want this. I really do, but there is only one thing holding me back. You asked me not to pretend the moral high ground, so I won’t. But I have to have some notion of what you intend to do with that serum. I have to, if only to be reassured that you are not going to use it against me. I don’t need specifics, but I need some kind of...assurance.”

“Nigel...” I said after a moment, “I’m going to go out on a limb here. I am going to tell you why I need that serum. In return, I need you to swear, on the life of your wife and children, that no one, no one, ever learn about this meeting, or the reason behind it.” I glanced pointedly at his secretary. “If needs be, I have something that can...impair her memory of this conversation.” I glanced back at him. “But I don’t think that’s necessary, is it?“

“No, no, it’s not,” said the man, “Constance has proven, many times over, that she can keep a secret.”

Aye, I thought, Because If you order her to keep quiet, she’ll obey like a voodoo zombie, won’t she?

“Verra well.” I took a deep breath. Trust was hard fought and nae given easily, but if I ever needed use of his resources again, I had to at least try to put out an olive branch. “Duncan Frasier. My older brother. He is, without exaggeration, the most dangerous man in the world. People call me a genius? Compared to him, I’ve a fifth grade education and was held back a year. And where my expertise lies in technology and electronic devices, his area of expertise is biology. Specifically, genetic manipulation and augmentation. Over the past fifty years he has been experimenting and gathering DNA samples from the world’s most powerful Supers, and using them to augment his own genetic code. In short, he’s turned himself into a nigh unstoppable inhuman superbeing.”

“I see,” Nigel said pointedly. “And this matters to me because...”

“It matters, because his master plan is to rule the world. Aye, I know...every two bit super villain with delusions of grandeur makes that same claim. With Duncan, however, it’s different. He has the intellect, the money and resources, and the power, to make it happen!” I sighed, heavily. “The man’s a monster. Twelve years ago he came and attacked, trying to take my children away from us. The genetic alterations he’d given himself enabled him to go toe to toe with Omega Girl, and me, and Eva and Parker...all of us together, and he held his own! Only pure luck enabled us to drive him off that day...and that was twelve years ago. Who knows how powerful he’s grown since then?”

“All right, you have my attention. Already I don’t like the guy. You would think that anyone who’s actually run a large organization before would know how ridiculous the idea of ruling the world is. It’s impossible. Every entity needs competition. Sure, he could conquer the world if he’s as powerful as you say. But pacifying it is a different matter altogether. There would be nothing but chaos, bloody revolution 24-7. The competition would create itself. Maybe that’s what he really wants,” Nigel replied in a bored tone. “But I don’t want that. I don’t like chaos. It’s bad for business.”

Self-centered, greedy...well, that killed the part of me that was just starting to like him. “If he wins, your business will be the LEAST of your concerns. But there’s more,” I said heatedly, “because the only thing Duncan wants more than global domination is to make me suffer, by destroying everyone and everything I love and care about...including this city. He’s a nihilist, and a sociopath. Make no mistake. If he wins our little confrontation...if he manages to best me, the first thing he will do is to kill my son and daughter. The second thing he’ll do is to kill Lacie in front of me. And the third thing he’ll do, just for the sheer spite of it, is to destroy this city...this entire city, and wipe if off the face of the map, just so he can taunt me over my failing to protect it. So, Nigel, how do you like the chances of you and your winged heroines facing off against a man powerful enough to kill Omega Girl with his bare hands?”

“Not very much, actually,” he stated ruefully, a scowl set deeply in his face. “Very well. We have a deal. Constance, have the prototype serum Mr. Frasier is requesting brought out from the lab right away. I trust you’ll want it delivered to your home?”

“Nae. To a hotel at which I’m currently staying. The Regency, on Fourth Street. I’m fair certain Duncan is attempting to keep track of my movements, so I’m staying mobile for the time being.”

Meeting my eyes again, he simply nodded back. “I can’t say I’ll be sticking my neck out for you any further than this, Eugene, but I do wish you success. If you’re brother is half the beast you claim he is, then I hope to high heaven that you win. But...if you win, when the smoke clears, I want you to remember something.”

“And what is that, Nigel?”

“I want you to remember that when you were busy saving the world, I did not undermine you. You’ve exposed some weakness here, Eugene. I want you to remember that I didn’t seek to exploit it.”

“Ach, I’ll nae be beholden to you, Grimalde,” I replied, moving to the balcony, deactivating the electronic jamming system, and opening the window. “See that you do keep your nose out of my business. Or else.” With that simple warning, I took off.

Nigel Grimalde absently motioned Constance over as he watched Armor Man fly away. Without even meaning to she caught his stray thoughts, Damn, that is so cool.

“Mr. Grimalde,” she said, “the lab won’t release that serum without Angela’s sign- off.”

“Hmm? Oh, right, of course not, it took them months to synthesize what little they have. Tell Angela I need to see her on the double,” he said, then, looking at the open brief case, “No, on second thought, tell her I have some new toys for her. That’ll get her up here much faster.”

But Constance didn’t turn to leave yet. There was something else bothering her. Pointing to the wreckage, she continued, “And, err, what about the mess...”

“Constance, we have a whole facilities department. You have to learn to delegate.”

“Yes, of course, Sir, but what should I tell them.”

“Ah, I see. Get Delores to help you work out a story.”

“Yes Sir. But what should I tell her? Mr. Frasier said—“

“Yeah, yeah, sure, I understand,” Nigel replied, dismissively, his mind already moving on to other matters. “Okay, here is the deal. Keep it in the family, ‘need-to-know’ only. And before you even ask, Patricia specifically doesn’t need to know.“

Constance nodded, sighing softly, turning to leave and carry out her instructions. “Yes Sir. As you wish.”