Mirage sat quietly on the soft, white, bear-skin rug in the middle of her living room, lost in the interplay of the gas log flames. Her whiskey and coke rested, untouched, in her left hand and the fingers of her right hand stroked her throat absentmindedly. Her calm outward demeanor was an illusion. Inside, her mind raced through the possible outcomes of each and every action she could take and her emotions rolled around in her gut like a boat caught on the open sea during a hurricane. All this time, and she was still a pawn. A single tear of frustration rolled down her cheek.
She looked around her exquisitely appointed penthouse apartment and wondered how she had ever thought it was important. Five years ago it had been her driving ambition. A year ago it had become her reality. Six months ago it had been enough. Now… it was a hollow shell, insulating her from something she couldn’t even define. It was another one of her illusions, another fantasy that she imposed on the world. She stared blankly at her distorted reflection in the polished brass of the fireplace screen. Her right hand fluttered up and touched her features lightly as she watched. The face in the reflection looked at her with questioning eyes. But she couldn’t remember the answers.
There were so many things she couldn’t remember any more. She couldn’t remember his face. She remembered how it felt to need him. She remembered the longing loneliness of anticipating his return, the breathless hope that today he would notice some small thing that she had completed for him, the empty hole in her stomach that she believed only a kind word from his perfect lips could fill. She remembered the sinking feeling of his absent-minded rejection of her embraces. She remembered the sharp pain of his derisive remarks. She remembered the humiliation that could only come from her father. But she couldn’t remember his face.
And when he left her, she had crafted a new persona and gone out to find someone who would replace him, someone who would cherish her presence, praise her efforts and speak her name with genuine affection. Instead she found another just like him; brilliant, arrogant, self-indulgent and oblivious. When that one left her, she swore she would never bide her time again, toiling silently behind the scenes for crumbs of affection. She went out and took what she wanted. She went out and made herself what she had dreamed would bring her recognition. This façade was larger and more intricate than any before. It succeeded beyond her wildest dreams. Now, she had power. She had prestige. She had money. Everything she had been taught was important from her early childhood lay around her within easy reach, no more than a thought or a quick word away.
Her every material need and want was catered to and fulfilled with no more effort than it took to pick up the phone. But there was no one to sit with, no one to appreciate her efforts, no one to share any of it with. Mirage considered the offer The Agency had extended to her, both the benefit and the threat. They thought she had so much to lose, but she was slowly coming to understand that losing it wouldn’t mean a thing without someone to cry to. She looked at the face staring back at her with questioning eyes and wished she could remember what it used to look like.
Honey Best looked at the figure dozing fitfully on her couch. The girl was distraught and, as far as the woman could tell, there was plenty of reason. Lord knew, being married to a super was bad enough; she couldn’t begin to understand the pressures and tribulations that growing up super would bring. Briefly she regretted her resentment toward Lucius for involving himself in the lives of the young woman and her brothers, but she put it aside. It was water under the bridge now, no way to change the past. She might be able to make the future better though. She tried Helen and Bob first, but got no answer. Then she called The Agency. Rick was in a meeting but they put her through to his partner, that annoying kid who had interrupted dinner with Lucius’ momma the other night.
“Johnson here.” He answered the phone tersely.
She put on her biggest smile and sweetest voice. “Agent Johnson, I’m so glad I got you on the phone.”
“Who is this and what the hell do you want?” He sounded preoccupied and annoyed.
She took a deep breath and ignored his rudeness. “This is Honey, Honey Best… I wanted to talk to you or Rick about Violet.”
“We’ve got it all under control, Mrs. Best.” He sounded like he was trying to be reassuring without really trying. “I’m on my way to pick her up right now.”
“You’re coming here?” She couldn’t help her outburst; the idea of that annoying little man in her house just gave her the willies. “I don’t think so!”
“Ms. Parr is at your house?”
Something in his tone set off the alarms in her head, “Maybe I better talk to Rick…”
“I assure you, Mrs. Best, I am fully armed to handle Ms Parr.”
“Armed?”
“Heh, I mean… ‘Authorized.’ I’m fully authorized to handle Ms. Parr.”
“Maybe I should talk to Rick anyway…”
“No need. I’ll be there in a few minutes. I’ll take Ms. Parr off your hands and you can go about your normal business.” His voice was calm and casual, but she wasn’t fooled for a second. As soon as he hung up, she dialed Lucius’ phone and put in their emergency code word. She didn’t know how long it would take for the young agent to get to her house, but she didn’t waste any time. She silently cursed Lucius for not letting her have a gun around the house. He always insisted that he would be able to protect her from any threat. But he wasn’t here every minute of the day and if growing up in government sponsored project housing had taught her anything, it was that God helps them that help themselves.
“Violet, hon… Wake up. We’re going to have a visitor.”
“Jack-Jack!” Rick said with genuine affection. The toddler’s arrival at The Agency was the one occasion where the junior agents and support staff got to see Rick Dicker’s face light up and show some emotion.
“Unka’ Rick!” Foom!
“What’s the rule about making fire in the office?” he admonished the tyke gently.
“Sorr, Unka’ Rick.” Moof!
Rick picked up the beaming tyke and turned to Bob. “Violet’s safe. She’s resting over at Lucius’ house with Honey. Let me get Jack into one of the practice rooms and we’ll talk about the arrangement I proposed yesterday.” He sighed. “I don’t think you’re going to like it. I know Helen won’t, but I really don’t know that we have a choice right now.”
Relief evident on his face and in his stance, Bob turned to Lucius. “Thanks man, I don’t know what we’d a done without you and Honey these past few weeks.”
“I don’t want to hear it, Bob.” Lucius said dismissively. “It ain’t nuthin’ you guys wouldn’t do for us.” He leaned down and patted Dash on the head. “Right big guy?”
“You got it, Uncle Lucius.”
“Dash, why don’t you go help with Jack.” Bob told his son.
“Aw, dad!” Dash pouted. “Why do I always have to leave when you guys talk about important stuff?”
“That’s a good question, Dash, and you’re absolutely right.” Bob replied with a little smile. “You’re free to stay. And I’ll be sure to invite Violet to stay the next time we’re talking about you, OK?”
“Oh… WHAT?”
“Well,” Bob continued, the picture of reasonable behavior. “You’re right, we should include you more often, but fair is fair. Next time we’re discussing your issues… and you know which issues I’m talking about, right?” The boy nodded fearfully. “We’ll be sure to ask Violet for her opinion.”
“I better go see if they got Jack in the fire proof room.”
“Good lad.” Bob said to the empty spot where Dash had been.
When Rick returned he commented on Dash’s eagerness to assist with his younger brother.
“Don’t give him too much credit, Rick.” Bob laughed. “He just doesn’t want his sister to know he walks around with a boner most of the time.” After a short rueful laugh, Bob turned seriously to Rick, “Now, what’s this deal you made that I won’t like?”
The agent briefed Bob on what he referred to as a deal with the devil. When he finished, Bob sat for a while just mulling it over and finally said quietly, “You’re right, I don’t like it. But I think you’ve seriously under estimated Helen’s reaction. She’s not going to dislike it; she’s going to hate it with every fiber of her being.” He shook his head ruefully, “She’ll fight against it tooth and nail.”
“You’re probably right, Bob.” Rick said solemnly. “But if she fights too hard, The Agency might cut off your funding and support. Sure, it might take a few months, maybe as long as a year, but when it was all over, you’d be on your own.”
“You can’t do that to them.” Lucius chimed in. “After everything they do for this city… Heck, after everything they’ve done for this country, you’re gonna just cut ‘em off completely over this?” He dropped his head into his hands. “Helen’s going to go ballistic, and Honey’s going to be right behind her.”
“Why would—“
“If you can do this to them, you can do it to me and Honey too!”
“You know this deal or something like it is necessary to maintain public support for the program.” Dicker said softly. “You guys help us out with the real nut jobs and we help you out with finances and protection from litigation. But if one of you goes rogue, we have to step in, or the public will eat us alive.”
“She’s not a rogue. She’s a confused little girl!”
“I know that. You know that, but she’s not so little anymore, Bob, and Joe Average won’t be able to tell the difference between rogue and confused. He’ll come to us and demand that we do something and if we don’t…” Rick shrugged.
“If you don’t… what?” Bob growled.
“No more Agency, no more support, no more money.”
Lucius crossed his arms indignantly, “I’m doin’ fine, Rick. I don’t need your money.”
“Maybe not, but where would you be if that guy from the bank had sued?”
Bob jumped up. “You know damn well that he didn’t cause that roof to cave in—“
“Of course I do,” Dicker interrupted, “and The Agency intervened with the judge, and the suit was dropped.” The agent motioned to the chair, “Sit down, Bob.” Dicker took a deep breath. “Guys, you know we’re here for you. No one wants to cut off the support you get from The Agency.”
Bob knew the old man was right. He didn’t do well in the corporate world and he’d never be able to protect his family from the consequences of one mistake. He remembered the trial of the jumper and the pressure brought on him to reveal his identity. Without the support of The Agency, he would have been exposed then and either spent the rest of his time doing scut work for mercenaries or traveling with the circus freaks. Maybe he could talk Helen into…
He bolted upright. “Helen!” he gasped.
“What?” the startled Lucius demanded.
“She’s on her way to save Violet from Mirage. If she doesn’t find Violet there…” He trailed off ominously.
“Let’s, go!” Lucius chided him. “We can figure out all this stuff later.”
“Uh, thanks, Lucius.”
“Try not to bring down any buildings.” Rick said evenly, but Bob didn’t hear him.
They made it about a block before Lucius’ pager went off.
Skippy Johnson checked the electrical connections once more before energizing the harness. It wouldn’t make him immune to the affects of Violet’s force fields, but it would dampen their effect considerably. He double-checked the tranquilizer darts in the clip of the gun. He had two types, one was a power inhibitor designed to interfere with a super’s ability to generate their powers. The other was a basic tranquilizer. Finally, he patted his jacket pocket to reassure himself of his ace in the hole then he walked up to the door and knocked gently. “Who’s there?” he heard from the other side.
“It’s agent Johnson, Mrs. Best. I’m here to escort Violet downtown to The Agency.”
“Is she under arrest or something?”
“No.” He replied hesitantly. He could hear whispering from the other side, but couldn’t make out the words.
“Then she’d prefer to stay here.”
“I’m afraid I have to insist.” He tried to put some authority in his voice. He’d been taking classes on crowd control and negotiating and he knew that a command given in an authoritative voice was usually followed. Apparently, either Honey Best hadn’t attended any of those classes or his authoritative voice needed work.
“You can insist all you want, she ain’t goin’ anywhere with you.”
He racked his brain for a solution. He knew that Violet was considered borderline at best. Bringing her back to The Agency would prove he was ready for solo assignments and stick it back in Dicker’s face. That second part was more important to him, he was still stinging from the insult the old man laid on him. If he brought back the girl, he would be out from under Dicker and probably get a decent promotion to boot. Since she was borderline rogue, it probably didn’t matter what condition she was in when he brought her in. Mrs. Best was another story. He wasn’t supposed to injure or hurt civilians, but she was married to a super, so she wasn’t technically a normal.
OK... Kick in the door… tranquilize the civilian… neutralize the super… return to The Agency… get promoted. At least that was the plan. It was a pretty good plan and it went well right up until he kicked in the door. The door hit the end of its travel and bounced back into him, throwing him off balance. Honey was on him in an instant hitting him with a table lamp and screaming for him to get out of her house. He finally got two shots off from the tranquilizer gun and she slowly collapsed onto the sofa. He looked up into the wide eyes of Violet Parr and raised his gun again.
His first two shots at her were deflected then he felt his arms being pushed into his body by an invisible force.
Violet glanced frantically back and forth between Honey’s still form draped over the sofa and the intruder. “Who are you and what do you want?” She screamed at him.
“I’m from The Agency, I’m here to take you into protective custody.” He snarled at her.
An invisible fist struck his face. It surprised him because he didn’t know she could do that with her powers. He wondered briefly what other little surprises she had in store but dismissed his worry. If she were capable of anything that could get through his defenses, he would have been briefed. Several more blows struck his head and body while he waited for the harness to find the right frequency to counteract the field pinning him to the wall. When he raised his arm to aim the dart gun at her, it gave him a thrill to see the fear in her eyes.
She barely managed to deflect the next dart he sent toward her. Confident now, he moved deliberately forward. He could still feel the effects of the force field she put up in front of him, but the harness allowed him to move through it. He felt resistance as though walking through water. Each step he took closer to the young woman increased her fear and panic. She kept throwing field after field at him, but with each one, his harness adapted and he was able to move more easily. The harness didn’t affect the darts though, and she was able to deflect them with relative ease.
Suddenly he was gasping for breath. He glanced sharply around and saw the telltale sparkle of a force field concentrated around his head. He almost panicked when he realized she was cutting off his air. A frantic glance at her face showed she was in deep concentration, moving the force field with him and making it impermeable. He raised his gun and took another shot at her. A welcome rush of oxygen followed her yelp of pain immediately.
“Got you now!” He gloated. “That was a power inhibitor, in about two minutes, you’re going to be a normal and I’m going to bring you back to The Agency.” She fell back against the kitchen table and covered her face. “When I walk in with you, they’re going to put that old goat, Dicker, out to pasture and I’m going to be the number one agent on the east coast.” He allowed himself a satisfied chuckle. “Not so tough without your powers, are you?”
Her eyes narrowed and the world caved in on him.