Decimation Crisis: Prelude to Resolution War Prologue #4
There was a delicate chiming of bells, heralding the arrival of a customer to Katarina Allen’s hand-dyed cloth shop. The young weaver bustled from the back where her loom was kept.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted the striking woman with the deep auburn hair, “how can I help you?”
Her guest smiled hesitantly, “Yes, please. I come looking to learn if you make special rope for sale.”
Kat was momentarily non-plussed. It was obvious by the woman’s accent (Russian perhaps, but with a hint of something else) that English was not her native tongue, “Rope?” she asked.
“Ah. Yes. I am sorry. Not rope. What is…. thin rope?” the fox-faced female held her thumb and forefinger close together to demonstrate how thin.
“Yarn? Do you mean yarn? Like to knit?”
The woman’s eyes widened in relief, “Yes! It is yarn. Thank you. But I need a special yarn. Yarn that is many colors, put together.”
Kat took the pencil tucked behind her ear and reached for her memo pad, “Sure. How much do you need?”
“That is good question. How much yarn do you think I need for to make this,” she produced a washed out photograph from her deerskin jacket. Katarina could make out an image of a man in winter clothes under the photos creases, “The scarf,” she pointed.
“Huh,” the wispy blonde made an attempt to gauge the accessory’s size, “I’m not sure….”
“It is a Volhko scarf. Very important in Candia.”
Candia. Kat thought he had detected a hint of Mackenzie Brothers in her inflection, “No. Sorry. Maybe I can get the measurements off of Google.”
She nodded, “Yes. Hallie showed me how to work the Google. It is very useful.”
Noting the glimmer of recognition when the Lair Legion’s AI was mentioned, Zdenka decided it was past time to introduce herself, “I am Zvesti Zdrugo. I am friend to Jay Boaz, Hatman. You have met Hatman?”
“Whu-yes!” Katarina assented. She should have known the stranger was a superhero just by her figure.
“Another of my friends, noble proletarian waitress Sarah Shepherdson talked to me about you. She said you can help me to learn to make Volkho scarf for Jay,” the Goddess of the North looked surprisingly pensive, “You could help me, yes?”
*****
The hood was pulled from Jay Boaz’s head. The Legionnaire took a quick recon of his surroundings.
Epitome was with him, though he was still wearing his blinders. Both men were on their knees in what appeared to be a well-stocked weight room. He could sense at least half a dozen others standing behind them, probably police.
There was a throaty chuckle. A figure loomed at the periphery of Hatman’s vision.
“Mr. Boaz,” Harry Flask intoned, “I want to thank you.”
The Lynchpin of Crime, still moist from his afternoon workout, sauntered into view. He absently examined with Jay’s Hatility Belt, “You have given me everything I wanted.”
“I don’t think that’ll fit, Flask.”
With surprising speed the big man swung the belt, catching Jay on the temple, drawing blood. Hatman ignored the pain and processed the possibilities.
*****
Zdenka Z accepted a mug of chicory coffee from Kat, “In Candia a Volkho scarf is very important. A woman makes scarf for the man who means much to her. It is an old, ah, superstition?”
“I think you mean tradition,” Katarina Allen said kindly as she fiddled with her office’s computer, “And it all sounds very sweet.”
“Sweet?” Zdenka was not sure how flavor applied to her situation.
“Nice,” the young woman clarified, “It’s a nice way to show your feelings.”
“Ah. It is very sweet.”
Kat took a sip of her drink. She couldn’t help wonder if there was anything more to the woman’s visit. Every other meeting she had with Dominic’s acquaintances seemed to have added purpose. Not sinister ones, certainly: the Lair Legion had helped her set up her new life in Paradopolis. Their lawyers took care of recalcitrant insurance companies. Their financial backer helped her secure a small business loan. They themselves introduced her to several celebrities, including fashion mogul Sydney St. Sylvan, setting up an impressive network of clients for her. It was all very overwhelming. Yet there was one man who kept a cautious distance….
As Fate would have it, the same man her search engine home page was reporting as being under arrest for an act of “meta-terrorism.”
“Zdenka,” Kat said as she scanned the headline, “You need to take a look at this.”
Zvesti Zdrugo leaned over Kat’s shoulder and read the report of Epitome’s and Hatman’s arrest. After a minute she stood and asked, “Where is this GothamMetropolis York, please?”
Katarina Allen noted Zdenka’s tone. She didn’t sound like an anxious girlfriend anymore. Her voice was as cold and distant as the woman imagined the Candian wasteland to be.
“Um, let’s see. I’m new in town myself…. but I think if you take Eisner Boulevard to the O’Neill Parkway… ah,” Kat sighed when she realized her directions weren’t registering with the Rabid Wolf, “Let me get my purse.”
*****
Harry Flask loomed over Hatman and sneered, “You have caused me a great deal of grief, Mr. Boaz. Which is why I wanted to meet with you before the police processed you and Mr. Clancy. To see the look on your face when I tell you how your brawl has doomed the Lair Legion.”
Jay didn’t reply.
“Your tantrum in my city has shown that even you, the most forthright and stalwart member of that pajama clad fraternity, think you are above the Law. You’ve given every supporter of SR 1066 the ammunition they need to make their dream a reality. And once that’s done we can begin the process of eliminating your kind once and for all,” the Lynchpin crowed, “No more superheroes.”
Flask pointed a stubby finger at Epitome, “What is truly ironic is that this man sought that goal before his, heh, transformation. And now, blithely ignorant to his former plans, he has played a significant part in accomplishing them.”
The Capped Crusader could not keep himself from glaring over to his teammate. The man hadn’t said a word since they entered Flask’s gym, even though he had regained consciousness.
The Lynchpin had plenty to say however, “How does it feel, Mr. Boaz? To know you succeeded where men like Zemo and the Hooded Hood have failed? You’ve brought about the destruction of the Lair Legion, Mr. Boaz. Congratulations.”
“But that’s not the best part. The best part is what happens afterwards when we brand the two of you. Then, Mr. Boaz, you’ll be working for me.”
Flask’s words stung more than his attack. Because he was right. Hatman had been impulsive, even vindictive. And in doing so he had given tacit support to a movement that was bent on tearing down everything he stood for.
Jay Boaz quashed his wool-gathering. Now was not the time to worry about the future. There was a situation before him that needed resolving. Fortunately, he had thought things through.
This time, Jay had a plan.
To be Continued, by Hatty!
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