Regency House Hotel, Singapore
October 6, 2008, 7:24 a.m.

Doug Danville backed away from the window, but made sure to keep himself between the Foulplays and his wife. None of the three women spoke. Their faces showed no emotion. They only floated slowly and ominously forward.

Doug broke his defensive stance and dove forward. He crashed in to the closest woman. The impact carried them both to the floor. He threw a right hard in to her chin, but succeeded only in hurting his hand.

Her face turned angry as she threw him up and off of her. He crashed to the floor just feet away from the broken window. He scurried to his feet, just as all three Foulplays turned his way.

He rushed the same one he struck before, but this time she was ready. She delivered a stunningly fast blow straight in to his solar plexus. The blow took him up and off his feet. Before he could realize what happened, he was plummeting earthward.

Terri, no! I can’t die; I can’t leave her in the hands of those monsters.

A streak of red and yellow shot towards him. Not another one!

The streak slowed just below him and slowly raised up to break his fall.

Doug found himself staring in to the face of Atoman.

“How? Where?”

“No worries, friend. Let’s get you back to your hotel room.”

Atoman flew upwards towards the shattered window.

“Wait,” Danville said. “There’s—”

They streaked through the window. The Foulplays were on Terri. Her bra was torn as she struggled to fight the women off.

Atoman’s eyes went wide. He dropped Doug to the ground and flew told the three attackers.

The first Foulplay flew across the room and blasted through the wall to the left of the broken window. Unconscious from the force of the attack, she plummeted down towards the street.

Atoman grabbed another Foulplay by the hair and hurled her upward. She smashed in to the ceiling, fell back towards the ground, only to be met by Atoman’s fist.

He grabbed the third attacker by the neck and raised his fist to strike.

“Wait!”

Atoman turned back to Doug without releasing the woman. “What?”

“We need to find out who sent them. If you beat her down, we will never know who sent her.”

The Lady Foulplay spewed a tirade in Mandarin. Doug knew bits of the language from back during the war, but he could make out only bits and pieces.

He walked closer to her. He took a moment to compose the words in Chinese. “Who do you work for?”

She smirked. Atoman turned and slapped her across the face. A tooth flew from her mouth, but it did nothing to stop the smile.

She rattled off a few words in Mandarin again. Doug recognized very little of her words, but he did recognize one important word. Zhuǎ zi.

Claw.

“No, it can’t be…”

“What?” Terri said. “What is it?”

“It can’t be. He can’t still be alive.”

Atoman and Terri both gave him inquisitive looks. But Doug could not bring himself to say the word.

Claw.

Claw.

“Claw.” The word came out in a croak. His mouth was dry. “They work for the Claw.”

The woman in the Foulplay costume giggled maniacally. Atoman squeezed off her air supply. In seconds, she fell unconscious.

“You are the Owl,” Atoman said. “I didn’t realize until now.”

“How—?”

“I possess something I call atomic vision. With it your costume is like a window. I have perfect recall as well. I remember the faces of all our colleagues.”

Doug looked to Terri. “We need to investigate this farther. We need to know if the Claw still lives.”

Terri frowned. “You want to put it back on, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry, honey. If they know who I am—who we are—I don’t have a choice.”

Terri wrapped herself in a robe. After making sure to avoid any broken glass, she sank down on to the bed. “I can’t stop you. I wouldn’t even if I could. You know what you need to do.”

Doug walked over to the closet. He opened it and pulled out a special garment bag. He dialed in the combination on the lock and opened it. He let the garment bag fall away and held up the black and crimson leather of his costume.

He pulled the mask over his face. He turned to Atoman. “We need to find a safehouse for Terri.”

“I have a penthouse where she could stay. My lady friend may be somewhat perturbed, but I think she will help us if I ask.”

Black Owl turned back to Terri. “Will you be all right with that?”

“I don’t have a lot of choice. But I’ll do it.”

Black Owl rested his hand on her cheek and gave her a smile. “Thank you, honey. I’ll try to finish this as soon as I can.” He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned away.

“Don’t do that. Not in the mask.”

Black Owl nodded. He yanked his shirt and pants off. He turned back to Atoman. “Come on. Let’s get Terri to the safehouse. I know of only one place to start our search.”

He quickly pulled on the rest of the costume as he continued to speak to Atoman. “You and I are off to the island of Ronkuan, better known to you and me as Riccapoor. If the Claw still lives we will find him there.”

He said nothing else as Terri donned her own clothes and quickly packed a bag. After a few minutes, she turned to them. “I’m ready.”

Atoman lifted them both off the ground. Seconds later they were flying out over the city of Singapore.

Black Owl couldn’t help but think his months of wedded bliss were at an end. Maybe forever. He didn’t have any choice. Duty and honor called him.

The Black Owl would fly again. One last time. One last time and never again.

He silently prayed Terri would be waiting for him in the end.

*****

Monterey, California
October 6, 2008, 10:47 a.m.

John Aman worked steadily at pulling the weeds in the massive flower gardens that filled the backyard of his suburban household. As a noted historian, his attire usually consisted of khaki and tweed. Today he wore a pair of shorts and a t-shirt emblazoned with the words “World’s Coolest Grandpa”. The shirt revealed his lean, but muscular arms and legs. He looked like a fitness conscience fifty year old, though in reality he was far closer to ninety.

It had been two decades since he last donned his costume, but John Aman had once been Amazing Man. But even someone with total control over their physical form can find himself suffering from a loss of relevance. Amazing Man’s time was past. He was happy to be just John Aman, historian.

It was an easy role to fill. He didn’t marry until the early seventies when he met his wife at a war protest. He instantly felt a connection with the girl thirty years his junior, and they were married within the year. Margaret gave him three children and watched them all grow to adulthood before she succumbed to cancer four years back. Now their house felt empty, but he filled his time with his gardens and his work.

“John.”

He stood up from his garden work and turned around at the familiar voice. American Crusader grinned at him from beneath his dark blue cowl.

John rushed over to Crusader and threw his arms around his old friend. He and Archibald Masters, the American Crusader, went back years. They first met in the early forties in battle with an underground Nazi cell. They formed a bond from that point on, and the common traits that kept them both from aging kept them reuniting over the years.

After a hearty pat on the back, John broke away. “It’s been a long time, Arch. What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“I’d like to say this is a friendly visit, but it isn’t. I came to ask for your help.”

“I’m retired, Arch, you know that. I don’t do the hero thing anymore.”

American Crusader rested his hand on John’s shoulder and guided him back towards the house. “You and I both know that’s not true. We were both made for this. We both try to retire, but it never sticks. This is who we are, John. American Crusader and Amazing Man. We’ve been doing this longer than most people have been alive!”

“I gave it up for Nancy years ago, Archie. I don’t think I have it in me to put on the costume again.”

Crusader pulled the cowl off his head and revealed the balding gray hairline of Archie Masters. “Look, I wouldn’t come to you unless I needed you. I have a big mission. Maybe my biggest ever. And I don’t think I can do it alone.”

“What are we talking about here?”

“The United States government is suspicious of one of these so called living legends gallivanting about. I swear this damn country wouldn’t know a legend if they saw one. Anyway, the one known as Atoman is a potential threat. Should he align himself with the wrong party or affiliation, we could be facing the most powerful enemy the world could ever imagine. Even with all my power, I don’t think I stand a chance. But together—”

“Together you think we can detain this Atoman.”

“That’s right.”

John sat silently. He just looked at his friend across the table. He remembered his promise to his late wife. He remembered telling her he was retired forever.

He also knew that he could feel it in his blood. The call to action. The call to duty. He wanted to take action. He needed it.

He stared down at the table. Stared down at the table they shared with the kids all their years together. His words came in a whisper. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, old friend. Thank you. You won’t regret this.”

John nodded slowly. He rose from his seat, turned, and headed to his den. He made sure to ignore all the knickknacks, all the memories of her, as he crossed the room to the sealed wardrobe. He broke the lock easily with his hand and opened it. Inside hung a pair of red shorts, a blue belt, and a baldric with a red jewel attached to its center. He touched the jewel and remembered back to his days in Shambhala.

He lifted the costume from its hangar and turned to join the Crusader. Amazing Man was back in action.

*****

New Salem, Kentucky
October 6, 2008, 1:14 p.m.

“I’m not sure about this, grandpa.”

Isabella Martina Ramirez looked in the mirror at the loose fitting tan leather pants, the matching leather top, and the furry boots she wore. In her hand she held a coon-skin cap. All together it served to make her look like the world’s worst Davy Crockett impersonator.

“I know this was your look, but I don’t think it’s really mine.”

Ernesto Ramirez stood to his granddaughter’s side and scratched his bearded chin. The beard was his one attempt to look closer to his chronological age. Having a woman only a few years younger than himself calling him abuelo made him feel like he needed to look the part. A beard with a little bit of false gray in his hair made him look a little closer to the part.

“Well, what would you like to change? It’s comfortable and allows you a full range of motion.”

Isabella frowned. “Well, first, I was thinking something a little more form-fitting. An outfit this loose allows a lot for people to grab and hold, which could be used to cut off my leverage. The boots and the cap are going to get negative attention. People don’t like animal fur these days, fake or not. And I’m pretty sure this isn’t fake, is it?”

“No, I hunted down those animals myself.”

“That’s what I thought. I’m sorry, gramps. It just doesn’t work as a contemporary look at all.”

“But this is Captain Fearless’s costume! I thought you wanted to carry on my legacy.”

“I do, but I want to do it in my own way.”

“Okay, show me what you want to do. This is your superhero career we’re talking about after all.”

Isabella walked across the room and opened a closet. She removed a garment bag. “I asked a couple of different tailors at local costume shops to work on this for me. I told them it was for a Halloween costume.”

She unzipped the bag and pulled out the outfit. The outfit was light tan, similar in color to the leather of the original Captain Fearless costume, but made of a spandex polymer. Kevlar chest and leg pieces covered most of her legs and upper thighs. Her arms and legs were left free, but she wore matching gloves and boots in dark brown leather. A domino mask of the same brown color completed the ensemble.

“Where’s the rest of it?” Ernesto asked.

Isabella pulled out the fishnet stockings for both her arms and legs.

“You have got to be kidding me! I am not going to let you go out wearing that!”

“What if I still wear the hat?”

“No!”

“Um, I actually already wore it out last night.”

“What?”

Isabella walked to the kitchen and opened the utility drawer just to the right of the sink. She pulled out the newspaper, carried it over, and dropped it on the dinner table.

The headline left nothing to the imagination: Fear-Lass? Below it was a blurry picture of a young woman that he could easily tell was Isabella in costume.

“Fear-Lass?”

“I kinda like it, abuelo. I think I might keep it.”

Ernesto’s head hurt. In his dreams he imagined the legacy of his family carried on. The name, the costume, the sense of duty, all would go along with the costume. Clearly, Isabella did not see it the same way. He took in a slow, deep breath.

“This is your career. It’s a little hard for me to accept changes, but I am going to have to learn. My days as Captain Fearless are long gone. The powers are yours now. And I have to roll with them. My focus needs to be on helping you actually make a difference in this city, not fret about the details.

Isabella grabbed her grandfather around the shoulders and squeezed tight. “Thank you for understanding, gramps. It means a lot to me.”

Ernesto looked at the clothes on the table. “You’re welcome.”

He frowned at the costume, then looked back to his daughter. “But can you at least buy some pants?”

*****

The Chateau, Boston, Massachusetts
October 6, 2008, 11:32 p.m.

Dominique left Mike O’Malley bound and tied to the bed in her chambers. Half a dozen women were sprawled naked around him in the oversized bed. The breeding is going well, she thought. Very well indeed.

She wore only a black patent leather bodice, a matching thong, and knee-high boots. One of her peons, Parker if she remembered his name correctly, bowed before her as she closed the door to the bedroom. He wore only a leather codpiece and the collar all her dogs wore. She took a moment to look over his muscular frame. He possessed stamina to match his strength. That coupled with his good looks, made him a personal favorite of hers in the torture room.

She walked the few remaining steps across the foyer to where he knelt. “What do you want, slave?”

“I beg your pardon, mistress, but the one you were expecting has arrived.”

Dominique nodded. She placed her right boot beneath Parker’s face. He obediently kissed it. She walked past him to the far side of the room. She pulled a lacy, see-through nightie from beside the door and pulled it down over her head. She opened the door and stepped in to the next room.

A man in designer jeans and an equally expensive shirt smiled as she entered. He wore his blond hair in the spiky cut all the young men were wearing these days. His constant attempts to look young always amused Dominique. He may never age, but he always spent most of his time trying to look as modern as possible.

“Hello, Lash. I’m glad you could make it.”

His grin faded. “You know as well as I do that the pact required I answer your summons.” He looked her up and down. “But it is reassuring to see you never change.”

“Unlike yourself, I suppose.”

“What do you want, Dominique?”

Dominique sashayed towards Lash. She stopped only a few inches before him and rested her hand on his chest. “What do I always want from you, Lash?”

He grabbed her arm and shoved it down to her side. “I don’t have time for your games. What do you want?”

Her hand flashed forward and clenched around his crotch. “No need to be snippy, dear.”

Lash made no sign that he even felt the uncomfortable squeeze around his genitals. “I’m a busy man. I don’t have time for games.”

“You disappoint me, Lash. You used to always have time for my games.” She released her grip and stepped back. She gave Lash her best shit-eating grin.

Lash crossed his arms and said nothing.

“You are no fun at all.” She gave him an overacted sigh. “Anyway, I called you here for one simple reason.”

“What? What do you want?”

“I found your little lady friend.”

“Isobel?”

She nodded. “It seems your little friend is at Wellesley working on refining her out of date career.”

“It’s been months. How did you find her now?”

“I have my ways, Robert.” She drew her head back and gazed in to his eyes. “You do understand your task in our little group?”

“I know what I have to do. Worry about your own goals, Dominique. Not mine.”

Dominique leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Take care of yourself, Robert. And never forget that we are all expendable in this game we play.”

“You would do well to remember the same.”

Dominique nodded. She turned to the two peons kneeling at the door. “Dogs, show Master Morgan to the door.” Neither man spoke, but they both rushed to fulfill their duty.

Robert didn’t take his eyes off Dominique as he backed to the door. Dominique smiled and gave him a mocking wave.

She turned back to her foyer where she found Parker kneeling and waiting. Dominique licked her lips and went to grab a chain. Parker said nothing as it was attached to the collar around his neck. She needed to work off her frustration somehow. She shivered with anticipation as she guided him down in to the dungeon.